Lonely without You
by moon71
Summary: This story begins just after Shuichi's horrendous experience at the hands of Aizawa's thugs, after Eiri has taken him back to his flat. We know what happens next... but with a moment of doubt and and a change of plan, events move off in a very different direction. Now it remains to be seen if those affected can find their way back onto the path they were destined to take...
1. Chapter 1: Let Go part 1

**LONELY WITHOUT YOU**

**SUMMARY: ** This story begins after Shuichi's assault, once Eiri has taken him back to his flat. The first two chapters follow the anime; after that things go their own strange way…

**NOTES: **Unbelievably, here I am! I am not presently writing any Grav fics but I do have some I never posted – time, overtime and other "real life" demands stopped me but I will get around to them all!

This story was the last I completed to date, and also the longest. It is an AU story of sorts; I am not, actually, a huge fan of Shuichi-Yuki "break-up" fics, but this idea came and there it was. What I wanted was not to completely change the story – as will become evident – but write something that paralleled crucial events and ultimately brought the characters to the same place they were at the end of the anime. Above all I wanted to create a sense of one small change leading to events heading off in the wrong direction.

This story also "sucked up" quite a few story fragments and story ideas I was never quite able to develop – these first two chapters were originally conceived as one story, but I didn't like the general gloominess of the ending and was pleased to use it not as the end but the start.

**LAST NOTE: **I will say this here and hopefully _never_ again. This is _not _an AU where Shuichi (or Yuki) end up finding true love with some character from the manga or of my own making, so anyone who hates that sort of thing need not worry. I haven't created a Mary-Sue since I was about eleven years old and will not pay any attention to the suggestion that I have done so here. Any OCs here are no more than plot devices! Trust me, relax, and hopefully enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: LET GO PART ONE** After his horrendous experience at the hands of Aizawa and his "rescue" by Yuki, Shuichi lies in his lover's bed and wonders what will come next…

* * *

Shuichi turned his head and watched in silence as Yuki Eiri dressed.

For a man who seemed to spend so much of his time chasing women, Yuki was remarkably shy when it came to nudity out of bed. He didn't seem to like Shuichi staring at him when he was naked and always showered and got dressed quickly afterwards. Though he had found it frustrating, secretly wishing he could have stared at Eiri's beautiful pale body for hours at a time, Shuichi had never dared to complain.

Now he stared unblinking. Why the hell shouldn't he? What did any of it matter? What could Yuki do? Shout at him? Hit him? Threaten to leave him?

Finally Yuki slipped his shirt on and padded out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him without glancing back. Amazing – Shuichi hadn't even heard the shower running; he must really have been out of it. Unless Yuki hadn't bothered to shower after sex – now _that _would be a first.

Shower… yes, he should get up and shower. He didn't want to feel soiled… now more than ever. Gingerly he reached a hand down to his belly and was surprised to find it cool and clean. Vaguely he recalled a soft cloth wiping him down, but he had thought it wishful dreaming.

Yuki had washed him, while he was sleeping.

Shuichi felt tears sting his aching eyes. How? How had Yuki known he _needed _to wake up clean? There was even a fresh glass of water and two aspirin on the bedside table.

Yuki could be remarkably thoughtful when he put his mind to it. He could be sensitive too. He _had _been just now, when they had made love.

Shuichi had expected – _wanted _– Yuki to take him; had half willed him to take him _hard,_ to reclaim him, to drive out all memories of the violation by another, to replace the pain inflicted by a stranger with pain inflicted by the one he loved. It was an insane notion… it was even repellent… but it was there.

When Yuki hadn't even moved towards preparing him, Shuichi had protested - even tried to force him - but Yuki had pushed him back with something close to anger. _"No._ Not this time."

_You think I'm dirty! _Shuichi had thought venomously, _you don't want to touch me because someone else did! _ But just as he was about to blurt it out, Yuki slowly but purposefully slid his hand down over Shuichi's bottom. At once Shuichi cried out and recoiled. The very thought of being touched there while it still hurt so much, even the idea of Yuki feeling or seeing the damage he knew was there made him feel both physically sick and hot with shame.

Yuki gave him a meaningful look. Shuichi lowered his eyes in reluctant submission, acknowledging the other man had been right.

How had he known?

Yet he still wanted Yuki. Still wanted his touch. Still wanted to be reminded that it could be sweeter than life itself. Yuki knew that too. He did things he had never done before, and things he'd done before with more speed and less tenderness. He planted long, lingering kisses on Shuichi's chest and belly and between his thighs. He sucked him slowly. He stroked his aching muscles with strong, soothing hands. When he finally settled between Shuichi's legs he still did not try to enter him, but only rubbed his own hardness against Shuichi's, grinding rhythmically.

After a confused moment, Shuichi began to move with him. It felt good. As they got close to the edge he could not help thrusting up hard against his lover's body, but Yuki just thrust back, the heat and the friction between them sending them both over at the same time.

No, Yuki wasn't completely thoughtless. But couldn't he just have stayed with Shuichi just a little longer once they were done? Held him in his arms and stroked his hair and told him everything was going to be all right, even if it wasn't?

Told him he had done the right thing, and that he was proud of him for having so much courage, and grateful to him for the sacrifice he had made?

Told him he was sorry for saying stupid, scary things about going away and disappearing out of Shuichi's life for ever?

But of course Yuki wouldn't tell him anything like that. Wouldn't tell him _anything._ Everything that Yuki said or did only added to the mystery; the uncertainty. It suddenly struck Shuichi with a sort of weary gloom that he would _never _know why Yuki did anything. He would never know what Yuki was feeling or what he thought about anything. They might go on like this for the rest of their lives and Yuki would never open his heart to Shuichi.

Seguchi Mika was right – he didn't know Yuki at all. He didn't even know why he called himself "Yuki." And Yuki had never invited Shuichi to call him anything else – if he really wanted Shuichi to get closer to him he would surely have invited him to call him "Eiri." He had fallen in love with a stranger, and months later, that was still all Yuki was.

There might be more small hints from Mika and Tatsuha. More little snippets of information dropped by Yuki's editor Mizuki. Suggestions from what Yuki did or didn't do. Clues gained from reading between the lines of the things he said.

But how long could they go on like that? Would Shuichi wake up twenty years from now beside Yuki and realise he still knew absolutely nothing about him? Perhaps he would turn to his lover thirty years from now, when it was too late to start again, and ask, _Yuki, do you love me?_ only for his lover to answer… _no._

No. He wasn't going to do it. He was too tired. Tired of the uncertainty. Tired of the effort. Tired of not being loved back.

Shuichi closed his eyes. He was just _tired, _period.

Where were they at, precisely, anyway? Were they lovers again? Were they back together? Had Yuki forgiven him for whatever the hell he had done was so bad that the writer had told him he hated him and thrown him out?

_Let go._ It came to him as a soft whisper in his mind. _Just let it all go._

It was certainly a tempting idea.

_I'll disappear from your life._

That was right – he should do what Yuki wanted to do. If it worked for Yuki, why shouldn't it work for him too? He would disappear from Yuki's life. He would let him go.

_Yes, that's it. Let go._

Yuki never made much of an effort over anything. He just sat around waiting for things and people to come to him. He sat around while Shuichi came to him time and again. He sat around while his older sister Mika lectured and scolded, when it would surely be simpler to say _this is the way it is, now leave me alone._ Even his own engagement had to be arranged for him, and he could not be bothered to give little Usami Ayaka a straight answer even when she came all the way to Tokyo to find out where she stood. Were they still engaged? Shuichi didn't know, and he had a feeling Ayaka didn't either.

Maybe Ayaka was prepared to spend the rest of her life in suspense. But Shuichi wasn't.

He would be like Yuki. He would let go, and the world could do what it pleased around him and he wouldn't give a damn. About anything.

Suddenly Shuichi's eyes snapped open.

_No. _

He didn't want to be Yuki. It suddenly occurred to him that to be Yuki would be a pitifully cold and lonely existence. Yuki was at odds with his family and seemed to have very few friends – no "mates," no "pals," not even a bunch of stupid but reliable "drinking buddies." Just a succession of rather shallow sounding girlfriends, half of whose names he had probably forgotten. Apart from Mika, Mizuki was the only woman Shuichi had seen in Yuki's flat who he wasn't sleeping with, and maybe she wouldn't care about him if he stopped writing books.

No, being like Yuki was a crap idea. Better to be like Sakuma-san, or Seguchi Tohma – to focus on his music and not let his personal life ruin that. His involvement with Yuki had very nearly brought the music career he had dreamed of for so long to a screeching halt just as it was really getting going. He couldn't let that happen.

_Yes, yes, that's right. Just let it all go._

Anyway, he reflected as he drifted into sleep, what the hell was he worrying about? He could take a break – a week or two – to get his head together. He could take a damn month if he wanted to. It wouldn't make any difference. Yuki Eiri would still be here. Yuki Eiri would always be here. He wouldn't run off and start a new life somewhere else; he was too damn lazy and besides, he didn't care enough about Shuichi one way or other to go to the trouble of leaving him. If Shuichi asked to move back in with him in a month or two, Yuki would probably say yes.

For now, all Shuichi wanted to do was let go and sleep.

* * *

**TBC: **So that is where Shuichi is, but what is Eiri thinking?


	2. Chapter 2: Let Go part 2

**CHAPTER 2: LET GO PART 2 ** While Shuichi sleeps, Eiri plans his escape…

* * *

Eiri moved quietly into his office, sorting through discs, memory sticks and written notes, filing them away in his laptop case before slipping in the laptop itself and zipping it closed.

All the other crap – toothbrush, toothpaste, razors, shaving cream; hell, even a change of underpants – he could pick up on the drive to Kyoto. Better to leave everything else behind. He could rely on Tohma to take care of putting it all into storage once Shuichi had gone.

For now, all he wanted to do was get away.

God, everything was so utterly fucked up.

He had tried. He had honestly tried to protect Shuichi from the bad luck that had cursed him since the day he had been born with that repulsive blonde hair and those freakish golden eyes that even his own mother had found it hard to love. But he hadn't tried hard enough, and he hadn't acted quickly enough.

And now it was all too late. All he could do was try to limit the damage by not making Shuichi's life any worse.

He could still hear Nakano Hiro screaming at him, demanding to know why he had led Shuichi on – why he hadn't sent him packing before the stupid kid had the misfortune to fall in love with him.

The guitarist had a point, of course. That night in the park Eiri had caught Shuichi like a fish on a hook. Shuichi insisted it was love at first sight, but Shuichi was a hopeless romantic. What Eiri had really caught was just the kid's _imagination. _

As a writer, looking back dispassionately, he could appreciate the effect that first meeting had on a boy like Shuichi. The mysterious stranger in the park – Eiri guessed he must have cut an exotic, even glamorous figure in Shuichi's fresh young eyes. The antagonistic words taken ultimately as a challenge; but a challenge which created a bond between them in Shuichi's equally fresh young mind. Harsh, truthful criticism was better than bland, uninspired praise. _If my work is crap, tell me how to make it better._ Did not every aspiring artist crave a mentor?

Hadn't Eiri?

Oh yes, it was easy to see it now, once all emotion was removed. And, indeed, once Eiri's memory had been shaken from its six year slumber. He should have known. If he had not worked so hard to forget his past, he _would _have known.

Instead, with each step he had taken, he had reeled Shuichi in when he could just as easily have thrown him back with an apology and a few words of… yes, of bland, uninspired praise.

Perhaps he was being naive. Perhaps Shuichi would still have persisted. But not to this extent. If Eiri hadn't taken him home with him that day in the rain... if he hadn't kissed him... taken him to bed... let him move into his home... with each jerk on the line - each concession to Shuichi's desires - the boy's curiosity and attraction had deepened to love and his expectations of a future with Eiri had heightened.

Yes, Nakano was right. But what he didn't understand the sheer force of the attraction _Eiri_ also felt for _Shuichi;_ how much his simple presence excited him, stimulated him; inspired him. Not even Shuichi understood _that, _not least because Eiri had never bothered to tell him. Better he and all the others should think this was just some passing whim, some novelty, some strange new quirk in Eiri's already varied sexual repertoire.

In fact Shuichi was more like some banned substance, toxic but addictive – being him was well worth the headaches, the expense, the danger and the self-reproach which came with it.

But Shuichi wasn't a drug. He wasn't alcohol; he wasn't high tar cigarettes. He was a nice, honest, talented young man and Eiri was screwing up his life. He couldn't keep doing it. No matter what a selfish bastard he told himself he was, he couldn't do it anymore.

Hopefully, one day Shuichi would understand that.

_Bullshit, _Eiri thought with a sudden jolt of anger. _Complete bullshit. Who are you trying to kid, you selfish arsehole?_

Of course Shuichi wouldn't _understand._ He was nineteen and he was in _love, _and the one person to whom he had so willingly given his heart… and his body… was dumping him after he'd been…

_Just say it, you selfish bastard!_

After he'd been _raped,_ trying to protect the bastard's worthless reputation.

To Eiri love was a weakness, a sickness, and with luck Shuichi would recover from it without too much long term damage. He had his music; he had his friends. He had his natural charm. People might think him an idiot at first, but they'd soon be seduced, just as Eiri had been. So long as Bad Luck held Seguchi's interest, Mika's husband would see that Shuichi wanted for nothing.

Except Eiri, of course.

The sound of a motorbike pulling up outside snapped Eiri from his thoughts and he went over to the window to wave Nakano over before the young guitarist could hit the intercom buzzer. Nakano waved back, mistaking Eiri's urgency for friendliness, and headed inside.

"Yuki-san…" he began, looking a little rueful as he gave a small polite bow, "listen… I can't exactly say I'm sorry for what I said before, but… but I want to thank you for what you…"

"Forget it," Eiri said quickly, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting Nakano to say it before he found out what Eiri was planning. "Did you bring his clothes?"

"Yeah." Nakano held out the bundle and shook his head. "Look – I heard about the school uniform thing, but don't think anything of it. It's like I said, Shuichi can do some pretty dumb things, but he…"

"I said forget it," Eiri cut him off again impatiently. "Just stay with him until he wakes up, okay? I've got to take care of a few things, I won't be back tonight."

Something flickered in Nakano's slate grey eyes. Worry? Disappointment? Anger? Or just comprehension? Shuichi wasn't being invited to stay here in Eiri's flat. So Eiri and Shuichi weren't back together. Nothing had changed after all.

"It's okay, Yuki-san," Hiro said quietly. "Don't worry; he can stay with me as long as he wants to."

Eiri hesitated, staring wordlessly down at the other man. Then he moved away, taking Shuichi's clothes with him. "Make yourself some tea or coffee or whatever," he called over his shoulder as he turned back towards the bedroom. "Oh, and get him to eat something, will you? There's fried chicken and noodles in the fridge – just heat them up."

Shuichi was now fast asleep; curled up in a semi-foetal position. Eiri knew he shouldn't have come back in – shouldn't have risked waking him – but some instinct had drawn him in. And at any rate, he wouldn't want the kid to wake up and have nothing to put on but a pair of girl's knickers and a dress.

He laid the clothes down on the dresser and went reluctantly over to the bed. The sheets had slipped down, exposing one of Shuichi's golden-olive shoulders. Eiri very gently covered him and as he did so leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his brow. Somehow it now seemed wrong to steal a kiss from those enticing lips, all the more so because he badly wanted to, just one last time.

He needed to get going. He needed to go before the momentum failed and he began to doubt himself; to find reasons to stay.

With a nod to Nakano he was out of the door and on his way down to the car park.

The thought of living in Kyoto filled him with a choking panic. He fought it down; rationalised it away. He wouldn't enter the priesthood; his father could stick that once and for all. But he would marry Usami Ayaka and concentrate on his writing and skulk around Kyoto for a few years before returning to Tokyo once the dust had settled and Shuichi had found someone else. Tohma would keep him informed of when the time was right. Before too long he could resume the life he had led before Shuichi – cars, food, drink, cigarettes and women, in no particular order.

For a moment as Eiri started the car's engine and pulled out he spared a thought for his future wife. Poor, unlucky girl. But he quickly dismissed her. She wasn't real to him. She was a part of the Kyoto world he had pushed to the farthest recesses of his memory. A girl his mother would have thought ideal. A girl who was supposed to help him see the error of his decadent ways.

Eiri sighed, digging his sunglasses out from the glove compartment and slipping them on. He felt hollow. He felt completely empty. The road ahead of him stretched out like a huge lifeless void, dull and grey and lonely.

There was one last thing he would do for Shuichi. He would do it as soon as he got to his father's temple.

He would pray. For the first time since he had returned from New York he would get down on his knees and pray with all his heart and soul, all night if necessary. He would pray for Shuichi. He would pray that Shuichi would find happiness. He would even try to pray that Shuichi would find love – with someone who could love him back. But most of all he would simply pray that Shuichi would not become a lonely, jaded bastard like him.

Lonely? He had never used that word to describe himself before…

As he drove towards Kyoto, however, he realised there was something far more tangible he really _should _have done for his lover.

He had actually rather enjoyed beating the crap out of Aizawa's little friend. At the time it had seemed even more satisfying than beating Aizawa himself. To hell with karma, who wanted to wait for the next life? Better to look to the Bible – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth… a friend for a friend. _Watch and suffer, Aizawa, you impotent tone deaf little fuck. Feel just a little of what I'm feeling, if you can._

It had felt right at the time. But now Eiri realised it was wrong. He should have just beaten Aizawa to death. Tohma might even have helped him dispose of the body.

Eiri caught sight of his own reflection in the rear-view mirror. There was a cold, humourless smirk on his lips as he noted he might as well pray for forgiveness for those last thoughts as well.

* * *

**TBC: **So we know what happens next… Ayaka arrives in Tokyo to tell Shuichi she intends to accept Eiri's proposal of marriage… but what if she changes her plans…?


	3. Chapter 3: Decisions

**CHAPTER 3: DECISIONS** Well, we know what happens next… Shuichi and Hiro run into Ayaka who has come to tell them she is going to marry Eiri… at least that's what's _supposed _to happen…

* * *

It was a mild night, but Shuichi was chilled through and through. His throat was burning and his stomach ached from all the throwing up he had done on the way home and there were still dull pains in various parts of his body from the beating he had received the week before.

Yes, that was right – it had been a week since it had happened. Which meant it was nearly four days since he had seen Yuki. Incredible – he had held out for that long! Of course he had resolved to do so – to just let it all go – that day lying in Yuki's bed. But even then he had doubted his own tenacity. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

"Hey man…" Hiro called softly from behind him, breaking into his thoughts, "are you really going to give up on Yuki-san?"

Shuichi didn't bother to turn around. "Yeah," he sighed.

"Really?" Hiro sounded unconvinced.

"Yeah!"

"Really, _really?"_

"_Yeah!" _Shuichi snapped, growing impatient. If this was Hiro's idea of a joke, it wasn't very funny. He'd said it in front of them all that morning – Fujisaki, Sakano, K and any of the technicians who cared to listen in. It was over. Finished. Yuki Eiri was fucking up Shuichi's life and Shuichi had come dangerously close to fucking up Yuki's. It was time to end it all.

"Seriously," Shuichi heard Hiro ask, "I mean – _for real?"_

Shuichi exploded. _"Quit asking me that, you bastard!" _he bawled at his friend, making Hiro jump a step back in surprise, _"Why do you have to keep asking me the same thing ten billion times?"_

Hiro held up his hands in mock surrender. "I just wanted to know why we're here…!"

"– What - ?" Shuichi glanced about in bewilderment. _Yuki's road. Yuki's house. _He hadn't even thought…

A jolt of panic seized him as he saw a tall, athletic figure emerging from the shadows of the driveway. For a moment he was quite certain it was Yuki and the urge to run straight into his arms warred with the urge to bolt. But finally the young man moved into the light and Shuichi recognised him.

"Hey, Shuichi," Yuki's brother greeted him with an enigmatic smile, "you sure took your time getting here…"

Shuichi scowled, not bothering to introduce Hiro. "Is Yuki so scared of me now he's got to put his own younger brother out on guard duty?"

Tatsuha grinned at him in a way Shuichi did not like. "My brother's not here, Shuichi."

"Like I care," Shuichi muttered, turning away and reaching out a hand to grab Hiro's arm.

"He's in Kyoto," Tatsuha went on, with a harder edge in his voice, "getting ready for his wedding to Ayaka-chan."

Shuichi froze. He looked slowly up at Hiro, then back at Tatsuha. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick again.

The next thing he knew he was running down the driveway, throwing open the door and pounding up the stairs to Yuki's flat, his heart thumping, his chest heaving, his eyes burning.

_No._

It was empty. Everything was gone. The sofa where they had sat together so often – where Shuichi had slept before Yuki unclenched enough to let him sleep beside him. The paintings. The books. The television. In the kitchen, all of Yuki's expensive cooking utensils and recipe cards. In the bedroom, Yuki's beautifully tailored suits and shirts were gone from the wardrobe. In the bathroom, those soft towels in their deep masculine colours; even Yuki's razors and aftershave. Even the soap and the heavy marble soap dish Shuichi had once nearly dropped on his foot. In the study, all of Yuki's papers. His reference books and his old manuscripts and his notebooks. And… his laptop. His beloved laptop, which to Shuichi had been at once a hated rival far more irksome than Usami Ayaka and the focal point of so many of his memorable moments with his lover.

_I promise to disappear from your life._

Shuichi's stomach heaved, but there was nothing left inside it to come up.

He hadn't really believed it. In his heart he had denied it. Yuki wouldn't do it. Yuki wouldn't do anything, right? At any rate, it had been said before_ – _before they had… made love. And Yuki _had_ been so gentle, so tender… so understanding of how Shuichi felt about the touch of any man after the assault…

Because… he was saying _good-bye?_

Afterwards, Shuichi vaguely recalled lashing out – screaming and swearing and beating his fists against the wall and pouring abuse on his absent love until he ran out of breath and sank to the floor, crying so hard he thought he would choke.

"Jeez, man…" A hand fixed upon his wrist before he could begin hitting the wall again. Shuichi's heart skipped a beat – then he berated himself for his stupidity. How could he make that mistake a second time? "You really _are_ in love with my brother, aren't you?"

Shuichi snatched his arm away. He was in no mood to be mocked by some smart-arse sixteen year old who didn't seem able to take anything seriously except his own obsession with Sakuma Ryuichi. And he was sick of one Uesugi after another patronising him and telling him he didn't know anything. He was half tempted to tell Tatsuha exactly what he had done to protect his precious brother's reputation – but what the hell good would that do? Tatsuha would just think what Shuichi himself was beginning to think – that he had been an idiot and his sacrifice had been for nothing.

"Fuck off," he said when he could get the words out.

Tatsuha didn't fuck off. He knelt down beside Shuichi and took him by the shoulders. There was genuine kindness in his dark eyes. "Come on, man, you've got to get it together. This is your last chance!"

Eiri's brother got to his feet and pulled Shuichi up with him, grabbing him by the hand and leading him towards the front door and down the stairs.

"Where…?" Shuichi mumbled dazedly.

"Kyoto, stupid! Come on, my bike's outside!" When Shuichi held back, Tatsuha jerked hard on his arm. "What's the matter? We haven't got much time left! Do you really want my brother and Ayaka to get married?"

There it was in a flash. That was it! He would crash the wedding! He would rescue his beloved Yuki from a fate worse than death! He would tell him he loved him no matter what - to hell with his mysterious past; to hell with that bastard Aizawa; to hell with everyone! And Yuki would…

And Yuki would…

And Yuki would tell him to go fuck himself, because he had never loved Shuichi and thanks to Shuichi he had nearly got "outed" as a queer and Shuichi had let three men take turns while Aizawa Taki took pictures and what the hell made Shuichi think doing something that stupid and that disgusting would make Eiri love him?

"No," Shuichi heard himself whisper.

"– Huh - ?" Tatsuha gasped as Shuichi pulled free of him once again. "Shuichi, stop screwing around!"

"I said _no._" Shuichi wiped his eyes and walked over to Hiro, who was staring at the two of them in perplexity. "I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing, Tatsuha-kun, but forget it. If Yuki wants to marry Ayaka-chan, then let him!"

"_Yuki-san's marrying Ayaka-chan?" _The exclamation broke from Hiro apparently before he could stop it. As Shuichi turned to look at him, his friend glanced away in embarrassment. "Shit," he muttered softly_,_ "Shu-kun…"

"Yeah," Shuichi answered with a bitter laugh. "Shit. Come on, let's go. Sorry again, Tatsuha."

Tatsuha stared hard at him, then turned away, kicking the front tyre of his motorbike in a fit of teenage petulance. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbled sullenly, "it wasn't my idea to come here in the first place. I told her the idea sucked, and if she really didn't want to do it she should just tell her parents but she wouldn't listen… just gave me some crap about needing Shuichi to do it… I tell you, all girls are insane… I mean, I know she's older than me, but where does she get off ordering a monk around…?"

"Hey," Hiro called suddenly, "who are you talking about…?"

But Tatsuha had already started up the engine on his bike, and seconds later it was roaring away down the road.

Shuichi watched him go through eyes blurring with tears.

"Shu?" Hiro put a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell's going on? Who was that kid? Yuki's brother? Is it true? Is Yuki-san really getting married?"

"Please Hiro," Shuichi said, his voice coming now only as a hoarse whisper, "please, can I go home with you? I can't face anyone tonight, not even my parents…"

He could see Hiro was still bursting with questions. He seemed more shaken by the news of Yuki's wedding than Shuichi would have expected. But a moment later he put his strong arm around Shuichi's shoulders and began to lead him in the direction they had come.

* * *

**TBC: **So Shuichi didn't go to Kyoto… and didn't stop Eiri's wedding… what now?


	4. Chapter 4: And Consequences

**CHAPTER 4: …AND CONSEQUENCES **While Ayaka examines the true meaning of "be careful what you wish for…" Shuichi tries to adapt to a life without Eiri…

* * *

"Eiri-san?" Ayaka stirred as she felt a movement beside her. Eiri didn't answer; he simply walked over the window and threw it open before reaching for his cigarettes.

Ayaka stared across at him, unable to look away as he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He had gone out after supper, following another huge row with his father. The two of them couldn't seem to leave one another alone – if Eiri didn't start the fight by saying something crass or disrespectful, Uesugi-san would provoke his eldest son by making some remark in praise of Tatsuha's superior conduct or start nagging him about the priesthood.

Tonight they hadn't even had Mika-san to shut them up – she had gone back to Tokyo with Seguchi-san and had looked relieved to do so, and for once Ayaka wasn't sorry. Though Mika never said anything, Ayaka was deeply conscious of failing to bring any peace or harmony to this troubled household. If Mika had thought Eiri's marriage would free her to spend more time with her own husband and concentrate on her life in Tokyo, she must now be bitterly disappointed.

Ayaka had waited up for her husband until her head ached and she could not keep her eyes open. She had been asleep for nearly an hour before he returned and lay down beside her without touching her. She made no attempt to touch him either – he seemed to hate being touched unexpectedly. She kept still, but once he was there it was so difficult to sleep.

Unsatisfied sexual desire was a factor, of course. The marriage had been consummated – whatever fears Ayaka might have entertained of Eiri intending a sexless marriage turned out to be groundless. Nor had Eiri proved an inconsiderate lover – his vast experience of women had evidently taught him how to deal with a shy virgin and he had had no trouble giving her great pleasure. Though Eiri's advances were usually wordless and always felt just a little impersonal, for a little while passion seemed to connect them as they shared, if nothing else, a huge relief of tension.

But already, whether because Eiri considered his conjugal duties adequately discharged, because Ayaka had simply failed to hold his interest or because of some reason she was simply too inexperienced to comprehend, their encounters were becoming increasingly rare. Though she sometimes wondered if Eiri would prefer her to be more assertive - his last lover had, after all, been a young man – Ayaka lacked the courage to make the first move towards sex, and so remained unsatisfied.

At any rate it was not the only cause of her restless nights. Eiri had been having the most awful nightmares of late, sometimes waking the entire house with his screams. Sometimes he seemed to be begging for help from someone called "Yuki" – odd, that it was his own _nom de plume_ he called out – but last night the name he had screamed had been "Shuichi." Ayaka had hidden in the bathroom and wept bitter tears, that night. But then she had dried her eyes and lain down beside her husband. She had made her choice – now she had to live with it.

And of course it had been what she wanted – what she had dreamed of for two years. What did they say? Oh yes. _Be careful what you wish for. You may get it._

But that had been before Shindou Shuichi. Before Tokyo. Before the private smile she had seen on Eiri's face as he had heard his lover declare before a packed crowd, _"Yuki is mine!"_

_Damn._ Ayaka, who had been taught never to curse, cursed again and again as she watched Eiri smoking and staring out into the shadowy garden. _Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!_

_Why Shindou-san? Why didn't you come? Didn't you understand? Did you think I could just let go of Eiri-san without knowing if you cared enough to really make him happy? I loved him – I still love him – I thought you loved him just as much! Didn't you have the courage to fight for him after all?_

_If I had gone to Tokyo with Tatsuha, then would you have come?_

It was an uncomfortable thought, but it had been popping into her head again and again of late. Would her appearance in Tokyo have made it real to Shuichi? Would it have provoked him into fighting back?

Exactly what had driven him and Eiri apart in the first place? She still did not even know _that._

_If I knew, _Ayaka thought restlessly, _would that make a difference? If it was something Shindou-san did – if the break-up was his fault, or if Eiri really didn't care for him after all… could I find a way to reach my husband at last?_

_My husband. _ She repeated the phrase over and over in her mind. _My husband, Uesugi Eiri. Just a few months ago I think I would have given my life… perhaps my very soul… to call him that. To be sleeping beside him in this very room…_

She gazed around her. It was a beautiful room in a beautiful, traditionally simple house, simpler, in many ways, than the one she had grown up in, but Ayaka found it suffocating. Though they both came from temple families, her mother had a love of non-Japanese things that Uesugi-san would not have appreciated – not disposable Westernised "junk" so much as fine European antiques. The house of her parents might seem cluttered with "things" to the traditional eye, but this house was cluttered with something far less tangible and far more difficult to clear out. It was filled wall to wall with tension – with unspoken words and bitter feelings and the ghosts of old arguments abandoned but never concluded.

Not for the first time, as Ayaka thought of her mother she found herself wishing _Eiri's_ mother was here to add some warmth and femininity to this cold house. Uesugi-san had surprised her by talking quite openly and tenderly of his dead wife while Eiri was locked away with his laptop and Ayaka was preparing food in the kitchen, and even showing her a picture. A beautiful woman with a beautiful smile. Uesugi-san had said he hoped Ayaka could bring back the light that had gone out when his wife had died.

Ayaka had been touched by his words and had felt a sudden pity for this lonely man who could not seem to connect with the son he expected so much of. In this short time she felt she already understood him better than Eiri ever would – he was really not that different from her own father. But her father's strict and austere nature was tempered by her mother's quiet but equally forceful presence – she echoed her husband's conservatism yet was far worldlier in her outlook than he could ever be; she recognised what he could not.

Including, perhaps, the less promising aspects of the marriage alliance both fathers had wanted so much? She had never said so openly – how could she, when Mika had been so encouraging and Ayaka so determined?

What would have been different if Eiri's mother had been involved as well? What, Ayaka had wondered as she had listened sympathetically to her father in law, had the Uesugi house lost with the death of its matriarch?

Then Uesugi-san had shown her a picture of a cute, laughing boy with blonde hair and glasses sharing a book with his mother, and Ayaka had burst into tears.

She had cried a lot during the two months of her marriage. She had cried for many things, but most of all for the fading of her own strength. What had happened to the spirited girl who had gone alone to Tokyo; who had willingly trusted in the hospitality of that dear Nakano Hiro, who had forced her reticent fiancée to Bad Luck's concert and confronted him over his feelings for Shindou Shuichi? She had often searched for that lost Ayaka since her wedding, but had no idea where to find her.

"Eiri-san…" she called again, this time with more energy.

Finally Eiri spared her a glance, though only a brief one. "Go to sleep."

"But I wanted to say…" she hesitated, then pressed on, "that if you want to go back to Tokyo… I don't mind. If you're not happy here… Wherever you want to go… all I want is for you to be happy…"

Eiri gazed at the floor in silence, ash from his cigarette dropping to the wooden floor. When he finally raised his eyes to look at her, she smiled encouragingly at him, but he did not smile back.

He never smiled back.

"How about New York?" Eiri said suddenly, and the bitterness in his tone was chilling.

"If – if that's what you want, Eiri-san…" Ayaka murmured. _New York, London, Paris, the arctic, the ninth circle of hell… I don't care! Please, just take me away from this house… take me somewhere you can be happy…_

Eiri rolled his eyes and turned away again. "Just go back to sleep."

* * *

"Shu-kun…?" Hiro came softly into the studio. "You okay?"

Shuichi blinked and looked up. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Hiro…"

"If that bastard said something to you at lunchtime…"

Shuichi frowned. "Oh, you mean Maa-kun? No, he didn't say anything. Matter of fact, he's been quite… sort of… well… _nice_ to me lately… when that fuck Aizawa's not looking…"

Hiro scowled. "Maybe he's afraid of getting put back in hospital."

"Not much chance of that, is there? I guess it was just the news about Ask getting an American tour that really pissed me off… I mean, hey, if the Americans think Ask represents the best in j-pop we're really screwed forever aren't we?"

Hiro refused to lighten up. "I still say you should have pressed charges against that arsehole!"

Shuichi shook his head. "Come on Hiro, it would have finished Bad Luck… and it would have finished Yuki. Even _I've_ watched enough of those US courtroom dramas to know what the defence lawyers would have raked up to get Aizawa off…"

Hiro gazed helplessly at him for a moment before finally surrendering. Then he stepped closer, a small smile tugging at his lips. "What's that in your lap, man? A book? Are you feeling all right?"

Mutely Shuichi held it out for Hiro to read the cover. His friend gave a low whistle and shook his head. "Shuichi…"

"I know; I know…" Shuichi sighed wearily. "I thought maybe if I read one of his books I'd understand him better and maybe it'd all make sense, and then I'd finally get him out of my system…"

"Did it work?"

"Nah." Shuichi stroked his hand across the book and sighed again. "I mean, he writes in this really cool way, you know, it sort of feels like a dream… like you're there, in this world he's created… it's like a song, in a way… I thought I wouldn't understand it, but it's so clear… shit, it's no wonder he used to laugh at my lyrics! But… but it's so _sad, _Hiro!" He felt a lump gather in his throat. "It's as if he thinks love ruins people's lives! This man and woman… they try so hard and yet they just end up hurting each other again and again… and anyone they trust seems to betray them…"

He closed his eyes and put the book down on the table beside him. "It makes me feel like I really _didn't _know him! Mika-san was right to warn me! I was wasting my time!"

"Shuichi…" Hiro came to kneel beside him.

Shuichi shook his head. "What's wrong with me, Hiro? I still love him! How can I still _love _him?"

"Shu, it's only been three months! No-one expects you to get over him that fast!"

"But how can I love someone like that? After what he did? It hurt me so much – it hurt even more than – than the – " he swallowed hard. "I mean, they only hurt my body! He…"

"You don't know that's why he left," Hiro protested, "come on, Shu, it's like you said, you don't know anything about him!"

Shuichi hardly heard him. "Yuki was always nicest to me when we had sex," he murmured distantly, "he never said anything mean while we were in bed…" It was odd how he could now talk so frankly to Hiro about this, while when he and Yuki were still together he would have squirmed with embarrassment at the very thought. But after all, it was Hiro who had seen him first after the assault – Hiro who had comforted him and helped him… get clean… and what did it matter after all? What was left between himself and Yuki that was sacred? "Maybe the sex was no fun anymore, after I'd been… maybe that's why he dumped me again…"

"From what you told me," Hiro said slowly, "it sounded more like he blamed himself for what happened, not you…"

Shuichi shook his head. Hiro was only saying what he thought Shuichi wanted to hear, and that was no good. What he wanted, what he _really _wanted, was the truth. It didn't matter how harsh or how bitter that truth might be.

Turning his head away so that Hiro could not see his face, Shuichi drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Hiro…"

"Yeah?"

"If… if you had a girl who got… who got… if some man…"

"I get you," Hiro said quickly.

"Would you still want to… you know… I mean, would it put you off?"

"Shu-kun, I just said – "

"No, I mean, would you still want to?" Shuichi rolled his eyes, realising he had no choice but to just come straight out with it. "The last time we were together… after he took me home – I mean, back to his place, after he'd got the film back and everything… he didn't… oh shit… you know… he _didn't._ I mean we did some things, but he didn't… I mean, if a girl had… would it put you off? Come on, Hiro, who the hell else am I going to ask about this? My _dad? _My _mum? K-san for God's sake?"_

"No," Hiro answered finally, though not with enough certainty for Shuichi's taste. "No… or at least… no, I don't think so. But if someone had forced her… I might be… nervous, you know. Scared of hurting her. It wouldn't be easy. I'd be angry… and guilty… for not protecting her… oh come on," he continued with more energy, "it was the day after it happened! Yuki-san wouldn't have wanted to hurt you! Not unless he was a total and complete bastard, or some kind of super-weird pervert or something!"

Shuichi didn't answer. Scared… angry… guilty… he tried to imagine Yuki feeling any of those emotions in regard to the assault on his lover but he couldn't. The only person Yuki had seemed angry at was Shuichi, for dressing up in that stupid, stupid, _stupid _outfit. In light of what had happened next, even his clobbering of Maa-kun and his getting back the film seemed more selfish than heroic. If Aizawa had gone ahead and published those pictures – even if they had been published by accident – the scandal might have got around to Yuki eventually.

_If Yuki was really angry about what had been done to me,_ Shuichi thought with a surge of rancour, _he would have beaten Aizawa to death. It's what I would've done if anyone hurt Yuki. Maa-kun probably just got in the way._

He started slightly as Hiro took the book he was clutching so tightly and looked thoughtfully down at it. "You know I've read a couple of his books too… before you met him… you're right, he's got a great style, but his stories always have depressing endings – well, the chicks who love his stuff would call them "tragic", but I'd just call them plain depressing_ - _ or _almost_ always…" Slowly he lifted his eyes to meet Shuichi's. "You remember _Cool? _The one he had published after you two started living together?"

"I remember him complaining about his deadlines," Shuichi couldn't help a faint smile. It was amazing how he could still conjure memories of Yuki that did not make him want to cry – or punch the wall in fury. "And about the editing. And the cover art. Oh, yeah, and the title…"

"I read that one too. I guess it was seeing those little fan-girls going all gooey over it that made me give his stuff another go… or maybe it was my best friend having a fling with the author…"

"What was it about?" Shuichi rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me – some family feud in Imperial Japan ending in misery and violent death?"

Hiro flashed him a quick grin, but then his gaze softened and he passed the book back to Shuichi. "Actually it was set in modern Tokyo. It was all about the lives of a couple of professionals who were completely committed to the modern single life – you know, sleeping around, no commitments, clubbing, drinking, that sort of crap – and how they screwed up their own lives just because they were completely bored and had no faith in anything. And guess what? It has a happy ending! He gives his main lovers the chance of a happy future! Think about it, man," Hiro pressed when Shuichi failed to react as he was evidently expected to, "he wrote that when he was with you! Don't you think that means something?"

"Like what?" Shuichi eyed his friend doubtfully.

"Like… that he'd changed his mind? That maybe… he was happy with you?"

Shuichi stared at Hiro without blinking. Then he looked away, shaking his head. He did not want to hear that. Not now. The memory of his conversation with Tatsuha still haunted him, infecting his dreams… the idea that perhaps, just perhaps, if he had gone to Kyoto he and Yuki might now be together after all…

"Hey!" Sensitive to his mood as always, Hiro nudged him playfully. "How about we go somewhere and forget all about this for a while? There's a new club opened not far from here… no old memories - guaranteed!"

"Yeah," Shuichi managed a weak smile. "Yeah! Why not?"

* * *

After several drinks, he was just getting into the spirit of things when he thought he heard someone shout his lover's name.

He spun round, half expecting to see Yuki Eiri standing there, gazing sardonically across at him, but instead he found himself staring at a tall, curvaceous girl in a skin-tight yellow dress who was smiling confidently at him.

Waving aside the person who had evidently been calling to her, she moved a little closer to Shuichi. "Hi," she said cheerfully, "my name's Buki! Listen… don't laugh at me or anything, but… you're Shindou Shuichi, aren't you? The lead singer out of Bad Luck?"

Shuichi hesitated. The last time he had answered _yes_ to such a question from a girl far younger and less worldly than this Buki, he had been chased by a rampant mob – straight into the arms of Aizawa Taki. "I…"

"Hey, it's okay; I'm not going to start screaming and tearing off your clothes…" Buki reassured him with an engaging grin, "not that I wouldn't like to… I just wanted to say I think you're really cool and your music totally rocks!"

Shuichi couldn't help smiling at the compliment – or blushing at the earlier suggestion. "It's – uh – it's great to meet you, Buki-san, but I… uh…"

"I'm sorry," Buki sighed, "I guess I'm a bit full-on for some guys, but meant what I said – I really do like your music. I saw you when you débuted supporting Ask…"

Shuichi felt his heart sink. "I suppose you're a fan of them too?"

Buki made a face. "Nah they suck," she stated bluntly. "Well, I guess they're not that bad, but that Aizawa gives me the creeps…" When Shuichi stared at her, she actually blushed a little. "Look, I'm sorry, if he's a friend of yours…"

"Not exactly," Shuichi answered, and found himself warming to this girl. "Listen; can I – uh – buy you a drink or something? Or would you like to dance?"

Buki grinned. "Which one first?"

He liked Buki. He liked her sense of humour and her spirited, devil-may-care attitude. He liked it so much that when she kissed him and asked him if he wanted to come home with her, he actually found himself considering it. But when they got outside into the cold air and were alone and she wanted to kiss him again, he began to have doubts.

Once again, Buki seemed to know exactly what was on his mind, or got close enough to it for it not to matter. "Hey, look, I really like you and I just think we could have some fun, Shuichi… no strings, okay? If you've got a girlfriend or something, that's your business."

"I haven't… not exactly…" Shuichi answered truthfully. So why did he feel like he was cheating on Yuki? The very thought angered him. "Hell, I'm being an idiot!"

"No, you're not," Buki answered, a grave look suddenly settling on her pretty face as she slipped her arms around his neck, "you're being… very sweet."

She kissed him again, and then she took him home.

It didn't take Buki long to realise Shuichi was a virgin, at least where women were concerned. It astonished and delighted her, but she was kind and they had a good time together. Her body was soft and warm, both outside and in. He liked the feel of her full breasts, her yielding thighs and her silky skin. It was all far too different from anything he had experienced with Yuki that there were no sudden unpleasant flashes of memory to throw him off.

In the morning they went out to a café for breakfast and she gave him her number, telling him to phone when he felt like it. She had it all so easy – there was almost no effort required at all. He liked that most of all.

There were several other Bukis after that, as well as more nights out with the original one. He made sure they were Bukis – girls who wanted a night of fun and nothing else. He avoided fan-girls and girls who looked as though they might start to care for him. He couldn't stand the thought of breaking their hearts. As for men – he was approached once or twice, usually by fans, but he could not stand the thought of being touched by any man but Yuki so he politely – sometimes impolitely - declined.

Sex, without love or commitment. It had worked for Yuki. Maybe it could work for Shuichi too.

Yet even as he was locked in the throes of the most mindless, meaningless passion, somewhere deep inside he was still conscious of a void – of some vital missing part, torn out of him when Yuki had gone. And when the ecstasy was over, where once there would have been music, there was now nothing to be heard but the soft breathing of another and the pounding of his own heart.

* * *

**TBC: **During one lonely night, both Eiri and Shuichi find themselves haunted by memories of happier times…


	5. Chapter 5: Memories

**CHAPTER 5: MEMORY **Though apart, on one lonely night the thoughts of Eiri and Shuichi run along remarkably similar lines…

A longish chapter, but I thought these two scenes belonged together...

* * *

Eiri put his small suitcase down on the bed, shrugged out of his jacket and took up his lighter and the packet of cigarettes he had bought down in the hotel lobby. Feeling a sudden ache in his stomach, he hesitated. It had been a long drive and he was too tired to contemplate a large meal, but maybe a beer and a snack wouldn't go amiss. He moved over to the bedside table and was about to pick up the phone to call room service when he became conscious of an unexpected sensation.

Relief. That was what it was. He was back in Tokyo. The day he had set out for his wedding in Kyoto he had resolved to stay away from this city for at least a year – two if he could manage it. But after only four months, he was back in Tokyo. And it felt good. Damned good.

It _felt…_

Yes. He was definitely _feeling _something at last.

Ever since his wedding night, Eiri had been aware of a complete absence of feeling. So often in the years after New York he had longed to feel absolutely nothing and had sometimes succeeded, but this was something else. It wasn't just indifference. He was _aware _of what he wasn't feeling, as an amputee might be _aware _of the arm or the leg he no longer possessed. And just like a phantom limb, it nagged at him. It gnawed away at him. Sometimes it even caused him pain.

He wasn't feeling much besides hunger and a vague sense of liberation right now, but it was better than nothing.

He found he was looking forward to seeing Mizuki Kanna in the morning, even though she would be in a bad humour and he would have uncomfortable questions to answer. He had insisted she play down the news about his wedding and that he would continue his writing uninterrupted in spite of her offer to use his "honeymoon" as an excuse to delay, but ultimately, despite hours each day hunched over his laptop he had produced nothing he would be proud to put his name to and certainly nothing his publishers would accept.

He didn't care if she brought his deadlines forward. He didn't care if he had to sit there and be scolded like a naughty schoolboy. He was just glad to be away from Kyoto… and everything and everyone waiting back there.

Pulling the cellophane off the packet and taking out a cigarette, Eiri made his way towards the balcony doors. But as he drew back the curtains he was greeted by a clear full moon, white and glowing and silently glorious. He froze, the unlit cigarette falling from his parted lips. Then he replaced the curtains and went back over to the bed.

Oh yes, he was back in Tokyo all right.

But, he made himself reason, Tokyo was a big place. And almost nobody knew he was here.

He switched on the television and sank down onto the bed. There had to be something suitably mindless showing – anything would do, as long as it stopped him thinking.

There was a film starting – but according to the continuity announcer it was a heartbreaking story of doomed love. To hell with that. On the next channel there was a low-brow American cop show – but the female guest star had disconcertingly large and striking violet-blue eyes. To hell with that too. And with the news channel where a man was being accused of rape; with the tediously worthy discussion show where a woman in a rose-pink dress was waxing depressingly over the environment; with the anime channel which was showing back-to-back episodes of that stupid _Ninja Samurai Sumo Kendo-Origami Mutant Demon Death Strike Force Team Attack Whatever The Fuck It Was Called_ series Shuichi always begged Eiri to tape for him if he was going to be late from work.

On the music channel, Sakuma Ryuichi was shouting _"Let's fly everyone!" _to his screaming fans, just as he had the day Eiri had brought a contrite Shuichi back from the park in which they had first met. The night he had told him he was "a little cute" and then kissed him, and probably made him think all his birthdays had come at once as he made love to him while his idol sang…

Memory took over, and he found he welcomed it.

The two of them returning from the park. Shuichi putting on the video Sakuma had given him and coming to sit shyly on the sofa. The look of childish excitement on his face as Nittle Grasper appeared on the screen. His attempts to explain himself; Eiri's own gently mocking response; Shuichi's protest quickly silenced with a kiss.

Once the kiss was broken, Shuichi had slipped his arms around Eiri's waist and burrowed in, presumably expecting them to cuddle on the sofa while he watched his video. It might have been the young musician's idea of paradise but it wasn't Eiri's. Shuichi really was just a little too cute for that.

He found himself in an unusually playful mood. Perhaps it was just that some of the sexual tension between them was now broken – he was calmer and Shuichi was less skittish and they were both hoping – expecting - the evening would end the same way.

But perhaps it was more the strangeness of the evening itself – and of Eiri's own behaviour. Something about the visit of Shuichi's friend Nakano earlier that evening had affected him; made him second-guess himself. Usually even if he knew he had acted badly – been too impatient or too harsh – he would never apologise and certainly never try to put things right.

But Nakano, clever bastard that he was, had presented Eiri with a chance to make reparation for his own quick temper without having to say he was sorry or even admit he had been wrong. He was granting a small favour which had been asked of him in the most gracious and respectful manner. Even the implied threat at the end didn't matter – Eiri was just giving himself a peaceful life.

All in all, Nakano had given him the perfect excuse to do what he had wanted to do since his anger had cooled and he had allowed himself to remember that his night with Shuichi had been too good to write off as a one-night stand.

All new ideas to Eiri. When he made a decision, he always stuck to it, even if it meant cutting off his nose to spite his face. It felt weird. But as was so often the case when Shuichi was involved, weird felt good.

So he let Shuichi watch his hero on the television for a few moments before he began to work on him.

The simplest kisses and touches pleased Shuichi because he was so inexperienced. A kiss on the back of the neck or a hand on the thigh was almost as exciting to him as getting sucked off. He moaned softly, protesting weakly as Eiri slipped the shirt off him and began working on his shorts, making a half-hearted effort to push away roving hands. _"Nhhh… Yuki… I'm trying to… "_

"Am I disturbing you…?" Eiri whispered, nuzzling his throat.

"…_Yuki… no… don't do… this… my favourite song…"_

"Then keep your eyes on the telly, dumbass…" Eiri purred. Watching the boy struggle between idol worship and sexual desire was both amusing and arousing. "You wouldn't want to miss it…"

"_Yuki…!" _Shuichi squealed as Eiri took him into his hand, "…no… wait…!" His cheeks were very pink. They had never done it with all the lights on before and that was evidently making it more real for the kid. He didn't even seem to have noticed his own state of undress until that second.

Eiri pulled him back into his lap, rubbing his erection against that firm, infinitely squeezable bottom. "Want to do it right here… in front of your beloved Sakuma-sama?" he panted into Shuichi's ear, pronouncing the honorific with just enough irony to add indignation to the mix of Shuichi's conflicting responses. "I can take you just like this, if you want…"

Suddenly Shuichi stopped wriggling and turned around to look at him. "No, Yuki…" he said solemnly, reaching out to touch Eiri's cheek, "I want to see your face…"

Shaking his head violently, Eiri banished the memory of that second night and flicked over to one of the "lifestyle" channels which might at least have a decent cooking programme. Instead, he was met with a _Hit Stage_ Special featuring footage from a party thrown by… oh yes, the gods were punishing him tonight… Ukai Noriko and her husband to celebrate the… Eiri had to blink twice and shake his head, but there had been no mistake… the reforming of Nittle Grasper.

Neither Tohma nor Mika had mentioned that one… but then again, Eiri had hardly seen Tohma since the wedding and when he saw Mika it was usually during an argument with either her or their father. When things were calmer, he had pointedly avoided asking them anything about NG, the music industry or anything else that might suggest a continuing interest in Shindou Shuichi and they were hardly likely to volunteer information on that subject themselves.

After that, Eiri stopped trying to avoid what now seemed inevitable. Forgetting food, drink and cigarettes, he watched the screen with a hunger that went beyond any such small cravings.

There was Noriko, her trademark lavender mops bobbing as she waved to the camera, always staying just the right side of hyper. There was her husband, giving his usual impression of a genial, absent-minded old git which would have been quite convincing except for that knowing twinkle in his eye. There was Tohma, resplendent in faux fur and velvet, decadent but not quite effete, and Mika, chic in style and coolly confident in manner. Sakuma chewing on the ear of that stupid pink rabbit and chattering to some unlucky stranger with Claude K Winchester smirking in the background.

Nothing was different. Nothing had changed. The ripples died, the water smoothed out, and life went on.

Tatsuha would have convulsions when he heard about the party he had not been invited to. He was probably having them in Kyoto right now.

Eiri felt his heart rate slow, confused by a sense of anticlimax. He was about to reach for the phone and call room-service after all when he saw him.

Amazingly he was wearing a pinstripe suit. But he was wearing it in his own style, more like a kid in school uniform than a man-about-town – the jacket was too big; it slipped back off his shoulders and the sleeves were rolled up. The shirt was open at the neck and the tie knotted loosely.

As he noticed the camera, Shuichi gave a disarming grin and offered the peace sign. A second later a girl came into view – Eiri thought she was just some silly groupie grabbing whatever limelight she could until he saw Shuichi's arm slip around her waist. She was pretty enough – as tall as Shuichi in her platform heels, her figure voluptuous in a tight metallic dress, her long dark hair highlighted with gold.

All at once Eiri could feel again. He could feel jealousy - hot and maddening. He could feel desire – real, aching need a world away from the casual lust and general frustration which had led him to turn to Ayaka for relief. And he could feel a terrible, painful longing. He could feel anger and sadness and – in spite of all he had told himself – regret.

For four months he had lived in limbo. Suddenly he was right back in hell.

He dug around in his discarded jacket and found his mobile phone.

For a second he thought it would go to voicemail, which was no use to him. But finally she answered.

"Hello?"

"Sanae?"

A soft indrawn breath. The coast had to be clear, or she would have told him he'd got the wrong number and hung up. "Yuki-san? Is that really you?"

"You don't have to sound _that _surprised… our last night together wasn't all that bad…"

"But – I heard you'd got _married _or something – and moved to – where was it? Kyushu…?"

"You shouldn't believe everything you read in your gossip rags…"

"Well, sure, but…"

"Where's your husband?"

A soft, sultry giggle. "Away, as usual. There's no rest for the wicked, as they say…"

"I wouldn't know." God, this was so easy. "I'm staying in the West View Hotel." He gave her the address and his room number. "Want to come and keep me company?"

A delicate snort. "I don't know… I'm certainly not coming up to your room like some hotel tart you ordered from Room Service…"

Eiri gave a hard grunt of laughter. "No problem. I'll meet you in the lobby for a few drinks. Text when you're on your way."

0He didn't wait for her to confirm her acceptance. He knew her too well – a secret rendezvous in an expensive hotel was the kind of thing she lived for, to make up for the mundane dreariness of her everyday life.

Just as he was shoving his phone into his trouser pocket, Eiri caught another glance at the television screen. No sign of Aizawa or his cronies, Eiri noted with satisfaction. For a moment the focus was on some other vocalist whose band had once rivalled Nittle Grasper. But then it suddenly shifted to Shuichi once more. He hadn't noticed it this time – he was sitting in a corner alone, sipping a drink. The engaging grin was replaced by an ineffably sad, faraway look that stirred something far different from the earlier desire in Eiri. Shuichi's gaze was fixed on something, but it was impossible to tell what. In an instant, someone stepped between him and the camera and the angle changed.

Eiri switched off the television.

Shuichi was doing all right. He was that type – the eternal optimist. The survivor. He had forgotten Eiri already. He had a girlfriend – at the very least he had a quick lay for that night. He wasn't traumatised by the assault he had endured, or by Eiri's desertion. He was fine.

So what if he had professed to be in love with Eiri? Boys his age fell in and out of love at the drop of a hat. Shuichi was fine. Shuichi would _be _fine.

Damn, how Eiri wished he had switched off the television before he had seen that lonely gaze!

What _had_ that wistful expression been for? For Eiri? More likely someone else was putting the moves on Shuichi's girl and he was too thick to know what to do about it. It was probably just the alcohol blues, nothing more serious than that. Shuichi never could hold his liquor.

But damn, Eiri still wanted him so _hard – _the stupid brat was still so insufferably _cute, _so unselfconsciously sexy; even now he looked so fresh and unaffected, smiling so affably for all the world as if, had Eiri walked into Noriko's flat that minute, Shuichi would have thrown out his arms to embrace him and an hour or so later they would be back here in this hotel, in bed, letting their bodies get reacquainted.

That, at least, was insanity. That thing had obviously been filmed days ago.

Eiri sighed heavily and reached for his jacket. A few stiff drinks and a night of mindless sex with Sanae and by morning with luck he would have stopped feeling all over again.

* * *

He was there, he was really there. He was sprawled on the hardwood floor, bathed in moonlight, with Yuki Eiri crouching beside him and slowly but purposefully helping him out of his clothes.

It was almost too much to stand. Shuichi's cheeks were burning; he could feel sweat breaking over his brow, his heart was pounding surely loud enough for Yuki to hear and he was so hard it was agonising.

"Yuki…" he moaned, half a protest, half a plea, trying to hide his face in Yuki's shoulder. The writer just smiled at him, distracting him with a breathtaking kiss as he slipped the jacket from Shuichi's shoulders and slid his large hands beneath his vest. His touch on Shuichi's bare skin prickled like electricity. In what seemed less time than it took to breathe, Shuichi was naked in the moonlight.

"Yuki… please…" he gasped, glancing out at the city lights, "can't we… go into the bedroom…?" It was only when he saw Yuki's slow, predatory grin that he realised how suggestive his words sounded. "No… I mean…"

"Come on, Shuichi," Yuki leaned forward to whisper, his breath tickling Shuichi's ear, "I know what you mean…"

There was amusement in those golden eyes, but there was also strong desire. Shuichi did not know which was more intimidating.

As Yuki led him toward the bedroom Shuichi had stolen a last, remorseful glance at the full moon, sorry to leave it behind. It was almost as if the moon was a chaperone, watching to see Yuki Eiri did not go too far.

The bedroom made it all so much more real. The bed itself seem to confirm without doubt what they were about to do. His legs unsteady, Shuichi sat down upon it and looked up at Yuki who was undressing himself.

At once it was all _too _real. Yuki was so… beautiful. His skin was creamy-white, his body lean and sinewy. Compared to him Shuichi felt small and skinny and wondered what Yuki could possibly want with him. More shocking still was the fact that Yuki was as hard as he was, and so much bigger. Shuichi clasped his hands in his own lap, feeling inadequate, but Yuki sat down beside him and pulled them away, replacing them with one of his own, warm and strong.

Shuichi had to stifle something close to a scream. He couldn't possibly meet Yuki's gaze; couldn't let Yuki see what effect his touch was having – certainly couldn't let him see the longing Shuichi was sure was burning in his eyes. Yet when Yuki whispered to him to look at him, Shuichi turned helplessly back. A second later he came right into Yuki's hand, unable to control himself any longer.

He could not remember much after that - how they got to be in bed; how Yuki was suddenly on top of him and… inside him… it was uncomfortable, especially at first; if Shuichi had stopped to think in any more detail it might also have been humiliating. But Yuki didn't give him time to think, so all he knew was that it felt… good. Not just the sensation itself but the fact that it was Yuki, that Yuki wanted him that much, that it was with him Shuichi was having his first time; that, from the look on the older man's face, he was really giving Yuki that much pleasure.

It was over too quickly – for a second time he lost all control, aware only of an explosion of delicious sensation concentrating in his loins but rippling all the way through his body, so intense it was nearly painful. He writhed and bucked his hips, struggling against the arms Yuki had tightened around him as if the other man was afraid he would try to escape, his only point of focus those narrowed, hungry golden eyes fixed unblinkingly upon him. He watched entranced as Yuki's expression changed, softening to something like astonishment as he began to thrust frantically, following Shuichi over the edge.

When Shuichi had finally regained his senses, Yuki – Eiri, his Eiri – was gazing down with an almost clinical curiosity. "Earth to Planet Shuichi," he heard the writer say in his usual wry tones, "any signs of intelligent life?"

"– Uhhh - ?"

"Well, I suppose intelligence was too much to ask for… any signs of life at all would do… "

That was Yuki… always making fun. But for once Shuichi didn't mind. Whatever mean things Yuki might say or do after this, he would never be able to deny that he had enjoyed himself just now and that gave Shuichi an unexpected surge of confidence. "I'm sorry," he murmured, feigning a puzzled frown, "…but I've forgotten… could you remind me who the hell you are…?"

To his absolute delight, Yuki actually chuckled softly and kissed him.

Yes, Yuki always was at his sweetest after sex…

But something was wrong. Even though they had just finished, Shuichi was not comfortable. He was still hard, and it hurt. Well Yuki could settle that for him. He reached up to pull his lover down for a kiss… and grasped thin air.

Shuichi awoke with a jolt, soaked in perspiration and uncomfortably aroused. For a moment he had no idea where he was. Then he heard a soft feminine sigh and remembered.

Buki. He was at Buki's place.

Dreaming of Yuki Eiri.

Shuichi closed his eyes. His first thought was governed purely by testosterone. He was hot and there was a naked body next to his. Buki might not be the one who had got him into this state, but she wouldn't mind getting him out of it. Did it really matter if he wasn't thinking of her while they did it? Maybe right now, somewhere in a house adjoining a temple in Kyoto, Yuki Eiri was thinking of Shuichi as he had sex with Ayaka… assuming it was Ayaka he was having sex with tonight, and he hadn't gone back to fucking anything in a skirt…

Shuichi's eyes snapped open and he sat up with a jerk.

_What the hell kind of thought is that? What kind of sick perv am I turning into?_

He threw back the sheets and got out of bed, feeling physically sick. Quietly he picked his boxer shorts up from the floor and pulled them on, ignoring the discomfort. The last thing he wanted was for Buki to see him like this – she'd undoubtedly want to take advantage of it and in his current state he didn't think he'd be able to resist her.

He padded softly into the en suite bathroom and splashed cold water on his heated face, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror above the sink. He did not want to see the haunted look he was sure was there in his eyes. That dream had been so real… down to every detail… that first precious night…

Buki's bathroom was so feminine – the walls tiled a dusky pink, the shelves crowded with perfumes and creams and cosmetics. The towels were even decorated with the image of the "My Melody" rabbit. Yuki would have had a fit if something like that turned up in his territory, and yet there was something Yuki-like about the décor in that it was totally Buki. No suggestion a man had ever influenced her taste. No suggestion a man had ever been granted space in the bathroom cabinet or even left his toothbrush behind. In all the time Shuichi had stayed in Yuki's place, he had never come across anything left behind by the myriad women everyone said the writer dated. No-one had dared to contaminate the inner sanctum of Yuki Eiri's bachelor world… no-one except Shuichi.

Suddenly all Shuichi wanted was to go home. He had found a decent bed-sit not far from Hiro's – he didn't care about the size or the appearance of it because he was hardly ever there.

He had tried living with his parents again for a while, conscious of a biting loneliness, but it hadn't worked out. His mother's insistence on treating him as if he was still a schoolboy, something Hiro said all mothers did and which he would usually have laughed off, suddenly infuriated him beyond reason. Even his father's gentle, laid back manner and encouraging words only vexed him into impatient, sarcastic responses. Both of them were trying to do the same thing, in their opposite ways – to find out exactly what had gone wrong with him and "Yuki-san", the man his father called Shuichi's "friend" knowing quite well he had been far more than that, and to make sure their son was all right, knowing full well that he wasn't.

Once, seeing his father watching him anxiously, knowing without a doubt that this simple working man, to whom his son and daughter were like twin suns illuminating his world, would forgive him anything, even being gay… even… allowing himself to be… raped… Shuichi had almost thrown himself into his arms and confessed it all. But he hadn't. He couldn't.

If Yuki had stayed with him… then somehow it wouldn't have mattered. It would have remained a secret between the few who already knew. But now that Yuki was gone… somehow that made telling his parents so much worse. He did not think he could deal with their horror and their outrage as well as his own shame…

_I should have died, _Shuichi thought with a sudden chill, _I should have let them beat me to death. At least that would have been more honourable… more… romantic… like in one of Yuki's novels… Mum and Dad and Maiko could mourn me without shame and Yuki could know, once and for all, how much I loved him… better that then to have given in to those bastards and lose Yuki because of it…_

_And not just Yuki… no… not just Yuki…_

The silence of the bathroom started him from his morbid thoughts. He was being an idiot. Life wasn't one of Yuki's novels and he wasn't one of Yuki's characters. And the endings to Yuki's books sucked. They _sucked._

He forced himself to leave the bathroom, headed quietly out into the lounge and sat down on Buki's plush sofa, upholstered in gold brocade. None of Yuki's clean, simple leather.

He had to be realistic. Going home was not an option. What had Buki said to him that first night?

"I might be a no-strings girl, but the one thing I do insist on is that a man faces me over the breakfast table. Sneaking off in the night for me seems only one step away from leaving a few hundred yen on the bedside table."When he had protested he would never think of her like that, she had laughed. "I know, Shu-chan…"she had said, so freely using the diminutive Yuki had only ever used in bed, and even then only in moments of extreme passion, almost as if by mistake. "I'm just laying down the ground rules…"

He couldn't do that to her. If nothing else, she had been very kind to him when he needed kindness. But he felt suffocated. Trapped within his own memories; crowded by his own doubts and regrets. Reluctantly he went over to the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the patio. She had a ground floor flat, small but nice with a small garden. "It makes up for the boring job,"she had joked when he had admired her home, "PA to an advertising executive seems mindcrushingly dull compared to being a rock star!"

There was a full moon rising over the roofs of the opposite houses. Maybe it was its soft silvery light which had somehow awoken those memories and pulled them into his dreams.

It had just begun to wane when he had shared Yuki's bed again, two nights after the first time. He had watched from the park with great bitterness, his eyes blurred with tears as he sat shivering on the bench, hugging his knees up to his chest.

Naively he had thought he couldn't feel any more miserable than he did that night. After the happiest night of his life, he had lived through two days sent from hell. Arguments with Seguchi Tohma – of all people! – a fist fight with Hiro, the arrival of Fujisaki Suguru, Ryuichi and Sakano admiring the precocious little brat's arrangement which even Shuichi could not deny was far better than anything he could have produced himself… it had all seemed so intolerable. Now it all seemed so trivial.

But as he sat on that bench weeping, it was not any of those things which made him feel so stricken with misery. It was the memory of Yuki's scornful words echoing from the night before.

_We had one night together. That was all it was. Maybe I thought you were a little cute last night… but now you're just annoying me._

That was it. In one night it was all over.

It had been Shuichi's own fault, he admitted it. He had been so wound up over the events of the day that he hadn't shown Yuki any consideration – any deference at all. He had behaved like a husband of twenty years coming home to alternately bluster and whine about work to his long-suffering wife. Of course Yuki would get angry. Someone like Yuki would not be able to stand being taken for granted after just one night…

But the words… and that contemptuous look… hurt so much.

Well, he had lost his virginity at last, which he supposed was a good thing. But he had lost it to a _man _– to a man during a one night _stand _– to a man who didn't give a toss about him; who probably just got off on the idea of sleeping with the lead singer of a band after the concert.

Yuki _had _been kind to him, but looking back on it, he hadn't said anything that suggested their encounter was anything more than casual. He hadn't said that he liked him or wanted him or thought he was sexy or handsome or anything like that… when it came down to it, Yuki hadn't said much of anything. It was Shuichi who had done most of the talking…

Shuichi who had confessed his love…

Shuichi had cringed at the memory and buried his face between his knees, suddenly ashamed even to look at the moon's gentle face. He was so _pathetic…_

Now, as well as being a mediocre musician upstaged by a boy three years younger than him, he was nothing but a sad, desperate little queer – and an _uke _queer at that! He had heard enough dirty jokes in the playground to know what _that _meant.

He had let Yuki _inside _him – inside his _body – _and it had meant nothing to the other man, _nothing. _

The day Yuki had kissed him in the lift, Shuichi had gone to his parents' home in a state of heated confusion, knowing full well his sister Maiko kept a pile of those pervy _Yaoi _mangas in a shoebox under her bed. He had leafed through them in mild disgust and growing distress – throughout the sex scenes, the one on the bottom was nearly always weeping and protesting like some hysterical girl and yet putting up with the advances of the one on top when one knee in the nuts or fist in the jaw would have settled the matter quite decisively. Was that really what those silly women thought men were like?

But now he wondered if that was what _Yuki_ had expected _him _to be like! Maybe he was _supposed _to fight against what Yuki wanted to do – maybe that was how it went with gay guys! He hadn't fought, except against his own bashfulness and sense of inadequacy next to his handsome, confident, virile lover. He had cried out only in pleasure; had begged only to do it again.

He _had _wept a little – but only when he climaxed; overwhelmed by intensity of the moment. The moment he was sharing with Yuki. The moment he had thought, like a fool, that Yuki was sharing with _him._ Was he just so naïve that he had mistaken ordinary lust for something more personal? The sex had been amazing – but would it have been that good no matter whom either of them had had it with?

What if Yuki had actually been disgusted by his eagerness? Was that the real reason why he had been so mean the night after?

And yet when Shuichi had arrived, he had _seemed _pleased to see him… as pleased as Yuki Eiri could ever seem…

When he had heard Yuki's dry bass tones in the park that night, Shuichi had been overcome with joy. It was like being reborn. He had been given a second chance. He had longed to throw his arms around the taller man there and then, but he was too afraid of ruining things all over again. It was only after Yuki had led him back to his flat and the front door was closed behind them that Shuichi had caught at his sleeve and, when Yuki had turned and bent his head ever so slightly, had given him a shy kiss on the cheek and whispered a soft _thank you._

"Idiot," Yuki muttered, but Shuichi _thought_ he had smiled… just slightly. Though he could never really be sure.

"…Shu-chan…?"

Buki's sleepy voice woke Shuichi from his reverie. "Hey Buki," he whispered disconsolately as he turned saw her standing framed by the patio doors, wrapped in a shimmering silver robe, the moonlight catching the golden highlights she had recently added to her hair. She looked so unusually young and vulnerable there in the shadows that he felt a curious sense of shame, as if by thinking and dreaming of Yuki he had somehow betrayed her.

She blinked at him, then shook her head, rubbing a hand through her long, thick dark hair. "'S'okay," she murmured, "I just thought… you'd forgotten the ground rules…"

"I wouldn't do that to you, Buki-chan," Shuichi replied sincerely. "I just couldn't sleep."

Buki nodded, looking a little embarrassed, as if her own worry that he might have left came as a shock to her. "Yeah. I know. You coming back to bed? I know a great cure for insomnia…"

"No." Shuichi lowered his eyes. "No, not tonight. But I'll see you for breakfast, okay?"

Buki smiled fondly at him. "Yeah. G'night, Shu-chan."

Shuichi turned to watch her go, confused by a sudden sense of warmth. Then he stretched himself out on the patio bench and fixed his gaze back on the moon, which in its frozen whiteness seemed to understand him, to agree with him, and ultimately to forgive him.

* * *

**TBC: **While Eiri meets with Mizuki and Maiko worries about the change in her brother, Shuichi tries to draw comfort from gaining a better understanding of his former lover – but doesn't much like what he discovers…


	6. Chapter 6: Cool

**CHAPTER 6: **** COOL **While Eiri meets with Mizuki and Maiko worries about the change in her brother, Shuichi tries to draw comfort from gaining a better understanding of his former lover – but doesn't much like what he discovers…

* * *

Mizuki Kanna's eyes bulged in horror. _"You did WHAT?"_

"Don't screech so loud, I've got a headache," Eiri complained. He and Sanae had got through so much of the blasted champagne she insisted on ordering before they staggered back to his room that for a while he was afraid he might not be able to do the deed he had invited her there for in the first place. When he had finally got her out in the early hours they had both been in a foul temper and as soon as the door was closed he had run to the toilet to be violently sick.

"I deleted it," Eiri grunted, sipping his strong coffee. "It was crap, Mizuki. You'd've rejected it anyway."

"We could have worked on it, Yuki-san!" Mizuki cried, "you've had problems before… lost faith in the plot or the concept… but we've always worked through it!"

Eiri shook his head definitively. "I'm… sorry," he said quietly. "But I've started working on something else already…"

His editor eyed him doubtfully. "Yuki-san…" She leaned a little closer. "Eiri… did you get any sleep last night?"

Eiri shook his head again. He hadn't. After he had thrown up a couple of times, in spite of the sexual exertion and the fact he was still pretty drunk, he had found himself wide awake, both mentally and physically. All at once the idea had come to him, ripping its way out of his deepest consciousness like a baby forcing its way from the mother's womb without any consideration for the pain or the damage it inflicted upon her. He had ordered strong coffee, switched his laptop on and started to write.

He hadn't read back what he had written yet – he was almost a little afraid of it. But he knew it was good. Bitter, violent, depressing, hopeless and cruel. But good.

He looked reluctantly at Mizuki. She was one of the few people outside his family circle who knew much about his private life. Nothing about his past, of course, beyond the fact he had spent time in New York and learned English; but she did know about his troubled relationship with his father, his betrothal and marriage and, of course, about Shuichi. He was almost tempted to confide in her, but he couldn't. This time he couldn't talk to anyone.

"You look awful," she was saying, part in sympathy, part in admonition. She was, after all, responsible for his continuing career at Eiko Publishing and a writer who couldn't write was no use to her.

Would it really matter if his writing hit a hiatus? Would it matter if he didn't produce something new for a year… even for two? Did it even matter if Eiko Publishing dropped him? He had enough money of his own to get by on. He had talent – romance writer he might be, but he wasn't a hack. Another publishing house would take him on. And unlike in the music industry, where almost continuous exposure was everything and time worked against an artist unless he could step beyond the initial adoring teenage fan-base and become a "serious" musician, there would almost certainly still be readers for his novels when he did start again. If he did start again…

In the meantime, there was this idea… feeding off him like a leach…

"I brought a copy with me," he said finally, digging the memory stick out of his pocket and handing it to her. "Read it if you want."

Mizuki frowned slightly, but took the USB from him and put it in her handbag. "How long are you staying in Tokyo?"

"A few days… I don't know yet…" Eiri grimaced, not wanting to think about returning to Kyoto. He finished the last of his coffee and lit a cigarette. "Read it and tell me what you think…"

His words sounded almost like a plea. Shit, he really _must _be hung over.

* * *

"_Onii-chan…!" _Maiko's voice was heavy with reproach as she examined the hand her brother held out. With a sigh she opened the fridge and set about wrapping some ice cubes in a flannel. "It's just as well you don't play keyboards on stage anymore…"

"Don't remind me," Shuichi muttered, wincing as his sister began to mop away at the broken skin with an antiseptic wipe.

"This is a real mess, onii-chan…"

"Yeah… but you should see the other guy…" Shuichi managed a feeble smile.

Maiko froze him with a scowl. "You didn't get into another fight with Hiro, did you? If you did," she pressed on before he could answer, "you're an idiot. Hiro's the best friend you've got!"

Shuichi rolled his eyes. "I know, I _know…"_

Maiko felt a sudden rush of anger. Her brother's apparent flippancy brought all of the anxiety and frustration that had been simmering deep inside her boiling to the surface. It was bad enough that Shuichi was so prickly with her and their parents - she was used to his bratty tantrums, but recently his temper had been of a completely different quality; short, bitter and nasty. For Shuichi to now be taking out that newly acquired bad temper on Hiro actually frightened her. No matter what trouble Shuichi had gotten himself into over the years, Hiro had always stuck by him. Even now, he might be the only one who really understood what was going on in Shuichi's troubled mind.

"I _mean _it, Shuichi! You were blessed the day you met Nakano Hiro!" she snapped at him.

For a moment Shuichi flashed an angry gaze at her. Then he seemed to remember himself and he sighed. "It's all right, Maiko-chan… Hiro and I are cool…"

"Well that's good," Maiko declared in a more conciliatory tone, applying the cold compress to Shuichi's knuckles. "So who _did_ you punch?"

Shuichi seemed about to answer, but then he lowered his eyes and shook his head. "…I'll tell you some other time… now then," he said with artificial light-heartedness, "how about some tea for your poor injured brother?"

Maiko stared at him for a long moment, but then she rose to fill the kettle. "Onii-chan… listen…"

"Hey, I was meaning to ask you," Shuichi interrupted as if had not heard her; "do you have a copy of Yuki's latest novel? The one he had published a few months ago…"

Maiko turned away abruptly, her muscles tensing. Drawing a deep breath, she affected a casual tone she hoped was more convincing than her brother's. "Nah…I gave them all away to my friend Keiko… I've gone off that sort of thing lately… so depressing, y'know… he gets a bit boring after a while, too… I mean, you _know _there's going to be a tragic ending, so…"

"_Maiko...!"_ Shuichi's tone held a note of gentle irony.

Maiko exploded, slamming the kettle down onto the stove with a resounding crash. _"Oh, what the hell did you expect, Shuichi?" _she demanded hotly, "that I'd carry on reading his lousy scribbling? After he'd broken my brother's_ heart?"_

"Maiko, come on…" Shuichi sighed. He sounded infinitely tired. "Relationships bust up all the time! It doesn't mean – "

"Of course they do! But it's more than just that, isn't it? More than you two just not getting on! Whatever happened, it's changed you, Shuichi, and not for the better! You're _different!"_

Shuichi frowned. "I've just grown up a bit, that's all…"

"_Well I don't want you to grow up!"_ She almost screamed, knowing she sounded like a small child in a passion and feeling like one too. _"I want you the way you were – stupid and ignorant and loud and selfish and annoying! I hate Yuki Eiri and I want my old brother BACK!"_

For a full moment, brother and sister stared at each other across the kitchen table, breathing hard. Then Shuichi reached over and squeezed Maiko's hand. "I'll be all right, Maiko-chan," he said softly, "honestly. Forget about me – you've got to concentrate on your exams! You're supposed to be the last best hope of this family, after all!"

Maiko drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "I… I always knew insanity ran in the family…" she whispered, "but I never thought it had spread to me…"

Shuichi smiled at her with all of his old warmth. She turned away quickly, feeling her eyes smarting. "So…" she continued at length, "how's your girlfriend…?"

Shuichi sounded genuinely surprised. "What girlfriend?"

"Oh come on, onii-chan," Maiko managed a small giggle. "That girl you were with at the Nittle Grasper party! What was her name? Buki?"

"Oh, yeah, Buki…" Shuichi murmured absently, gazing down at his injured hand, "I'm not seeing her anymore."

Maiko turned back in genuine surprise. "What? But it looked to me like you were getting on great!"

"We were," she heard Shuichi say in a distant, pensive voice. "That's why I'm not seeing her anymore…"

* * *

In the end, he found the book in a charity shop. It amused him in rather twisted way that one of Yuki Eiri's novels should end up there. He even wondered if it was Maiko's copy and she had lied about giving it away to her friend. Unable to face going home with it, he went to the park, reading what he could in the fading light by sitting on the edge of the illuminated fountain.

Hiro had said it had a happy ending. Could there be any truth in the idea that Yuki had written it that way because Shuichi had made him happy? There _had_ been times when Yuki _seemed _happy with Shuichi there, but there were plenty of times when he hadn't; when he was sullen and irritable and infuriating monosyllabic. Either way, he had almost never told Shuichi what he was feeling, unless Shuichi had annoyed him so much he had lost his temper.

Shuichi only managed to read the first couple of chapters before he had to close the book and rub at his aching head. A tightness had gathered in his chest and he felt a little sick.

It was if the novel was set on Planet Yuki. All the characters talked, acted and very probably _thought _like their creator. They were clever and beautiful and successful and they all had sharp, witty things to say, but they were also all cold, all solitary; all lacking in… yes, that was the word… lacking in _empathy._

He could not read more without remembering so many things about Yuki he had been too blinded by love to bother dwelling on at the time. But then again, it was _time, _as well as love, that had blinded him. It was the sheer momentum of his romance with Yuki. What time had had he had to reflect on the man's early cruelty when in less than a week he had been in his bed?

_Don't tell me you're seriously in love with me…!_

All at once Shuichi could hear the contempt in Yuki's voice as clearly as if the man was standing next to him right now. The sneer on his face… the mockery in those beautiful golden eyes. He turned the book over in his hands and gazed down at the picture of the author on the back cover. Yuki Eiri frowned austerely up at him… or rather, over his left shoulder. Looking directly into the camera was obviously not his style.

"I didn't deserve that," Shuichi said aloud, firmly and clearly as he stared down at the photograph, "I didn't do anything to deserve _that…"_

_Why you damned brat!_

What had _that _been for? "What was so wrong with someone falling in love with you?" he demanded, "if someone had fallen in love with me at first sight I would _never _have been that mean to them! So what if I was a guy – it didn't stop you sleeping with me in the end! Why did you have to be so mean about it? _Why do you always have to be so mean about everything?"_

Yuki bloody Eiri, so stuck up his own arse he took it as a personal insult that some dumb kid fell in love with him. Couldn't he have just been flattered? Shuichi and Hiro – even Fujisaki – were already getting lots of fan-mail from dizzy schoolgirls declaring their love; it was silly, but it was also… sweet. Shuichi had even got one or two letters from teenage boys, insisting they weren't gay but that they just really _liked_ him. Many of them sounded more lonely and confused than gripped by lust. He had replied personally when he could – very carefully monitored by Sakano-san – but always kindly; never with the sort of scorn Yuki had poured upon _him._

But moments after Yuki had made fun of him, ripping Shuichi's deeply suppressed longings and desires out of him and then throwing them aside like unwanted junk-mail, he had been kissing Shuichi with unmistakable passion.

"I don't understand you," Shuichi said to the picture of his former lover, echoing the words he had whispered on that precious night in the moonlight, "I still don't understand you… Eiri…"

_I don't understand you either._

That was the best answer the Yuki who lived in his memories could offer. And what the hell was that supposed to mean? What was there to understand about _Shuichi?_ He had always been honest – had in fact been unable to be anything else. What was there to understand but that Shuichi loved him?

Or couldn't Yuki even understand _that?_

All at once, hot, burning, mindless rage rose up in Shuichi. He tore the dust jacket from the book and ripped it to shreds. "I hate you," he panted as he hurled the book to the ground, "I _hate _you, Yuki Eiri! Iwish I'd never met you! _I wish I'd never met you!"_

He dealt the book a violent kick sending it flying through the air to land with a resounding splash into the fountain.

* * *

"_It's… good." _Mizuki sounded hesitant, even a little reluctant. _"It's bleak and hopeless even for you…"_

"Yeah." Eiri gave a grunt of laughter. "It even depressed _me _while I was writing it…"

"_But it _is_ good." _There was another pause on the end of the telephone. _"How does it end?"_

Eiri frowned, raising his cigarette to his lips and taking a deep drag before he answered. "I don't know," he said truthfully.

"_I thought you always knew how your novels ended!"_

"Not this time. I've got a few more chapters for you already. Want me to email them over?"

"_Are you back in Kyoto?"_

"…Not at the moment…" Eiri admitted, tapping ash from his cigarette and wondering why he felt guilty as he said it to Mizuki, considering he hadn't felt anything when he had abandoned his wife yet again in Kyoto. "I'm back in Tokyo again. I… had a few things to take care of."

"_Oh!"_ Mizuki made a good attempt at not sounding either surprised or curious. "_Well… then why don't we meet for lunch? My expense account has been going to waste since your… since you moved out of Tokyo…"_

They settled time and place and then said good-night. Eiri switched off his phone and looked down at his laptop. The new novel seemed to be eating him alive; he was even beginning to feel it physically, inside. His stomach ached almost constantly now with a dull, burning pain. He supposed he ought to get it checked out, but he couldn't work up the will to face his doctor, who would no doubt relish the opportunity to scold him on the increased levels of his smoking and drinking.

He still did not want to read back what he had written. Let Mizuki read it. Let Mizuki make sense of it. She seemed to think it was good, and that was enough.

Personally, he wasn't sure he liked it at all. He was beginning to think he might actually hate it.

Switching off the laptop, Eiri headed down to the hotel bar and ordered himself a beer. Across the room, a group of young women were giggling tipsily and passing around a digital camera, taking turns to view the photographs. Japanese, certainly, but not from Tokyo. From some little town somewhere, up for a few days of shopping, sightseeing, drinking and giggling.

Eiri lit another cigarette and let his eyes wander lazily over the group. Two of them caught his gaze and returned it shyly before whispering to one another. More giggling followed. Eiri turned away and sipped his beer.

He had dreamed of Shuichi last night, but that was nothing unusual. Even when he didn't remember his dreams, he was sure Shuichi had been in them somewhere. In last night's dream he had run away to New York to confront Kitazawa Yuki… which was stupid of course, because how could you confront a dead man? But that was the logic of dreams for you. At any rate, Kitazawa was going to meet him in his own New York apartment – the very one he had died in – only when Eiri arrived the place was derelict and Yuki had gone.

But suddenly Shuichi was there, shouting at him, demanding to know how he could dare go to New York without him. When Eiri had in turn demanded to know what business it was of Shuichi's where he went, Shuichi insisted it was always his business. _Always._

Because he _loved_ him!

After that the dream had stopped making any sense at all.

"Excuse me…" A soft feminine voice disturbed Eiri's thoughts. He turned around to find one of the tourist girls standing a foot away from him, looking awkward. He noticed the others had already left. "But – oh dear – you're going to think me dreadfully silly, but… aren't you Yuki Eiri? The writer?"

Eiri regarded her with open appraisal, amused to see her blush a bright pink. Not his usual type, but pretty never-the-less. "I may be," he said nonchalantly, turning back to the bar, "it's possible… why don't you let me buy you a drink and we can discuss it…?"

* * *

TBC: Hiro is increasingly worried about the changes in Shuichi, and that's before an unexpected visitor appears to complicate things even further…


	7. Chapter 7: Visitor

**CHAPTER 7: VISITOR **Hiro is increasingly worried about the changes in Shuichi, and that's before an unexpected visitor appears to complicate things even further…

* * *

When Hiro found him, Shuichi was still in his stage costume, hunched over that damn stupid laptop he was beginning to wish his friend had never bought.

"Aren't you even changed yet?"

Shuichi shrugged impatiently. "Never mind that, look at this! Do you think it's true?"

Hiro felt a rising wave of unease. "Don't tell me you're on that bloody Ask site again…?"

"It says here there are rumours they're looking for a new vocalist! Do you really think they're going to give old sourpuss the boot?"

"You should be more worried about the little matter of his broken teeth!" Hiro muttered, digging a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. "You might be pleased to know he's not going to press charges for that punch you gave him so long as NG pays for his dental work."

"Then I did him a favour," Shuichi replied tonelessly, not taking his eyes from the screen, "his teeth were crooked to begin with. No wonder he hardly ever smiles!"

"I doubt that was what really settled it," Hiro remarked with a smirk, "Fujisaki reckons he saw K-san talking to Aizawa outside Seguchi-san's office… and Aizawa looked like he was about to crap himself! Something tells me he won't be shooting off his mouth again anytime soon…"

"Hurray for K," Shuichi said with half-hearted cheer.

"So…" Hiro continued as he lit his cigarette, "are you going to apologise to him?"

Finally Shuichi turned to face him, his eyes wide with disbelief. "To _Sourpuss?"_

"No, stupid," Hiro snapped impatiently, "to Fujisaki! Shu, I know he can be irritating, but don't you think calling him a stupid, spoilt, no-talent little shit in front of the entire recording crew was going a bit far?"

Shuichi lowered his eyes. "…I was angry," he answered softly.

"You were _nasty._ I've never seen you act like that before."

Shuichi hesitated. He turned back to the computer, but mercifully he shut it down and loaded it into its case before turning back to Hiro with a rueful look. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right, I shouldn't have done that, there was no excuse for it. And you know what's worse?" He rose and began to shed his costume. "The kid was right. The song sucked."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad…"

"Hiro, it was shit. Could you honestly have imagined us debuting with that song instead of _The Rage Beat?_ Yuki would have wet himself laughing at me!"

Hiro sighed and shook his head. "Listen… maybe Suguru-kun is right. Maybe you should just let someone else take over the song-writing for now…"

If he had expected Shuichi to react hotly, Hiro was to be disappointed. His friend simply finished pulling up the scruffy old pair of jeans he had taken to loafing around in, and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Maybe. Maybe I should let someone else take over the vocals, too…"

"_Shuichi!" _Hiro cried in sudden exasperation,"come on, man, this is_ serious!"_

"I mean it, Hiro!" Shuichi retorted, showing real energy for the first time, "there's nothing inside anymore! There's no music, no lyrics, _nothing!_ I don't even know if I _care _about it anymore!"

"Shu… you heard what K said this afternoon…"

"Oh yeah, I heard," Shuichi answered bitterly, "we're neck and neck with Ask in the album charts _and _the singles charts! Hurray for us! That's not what I wanted for us, Hiro! I wanted us to trample Ask underfoot! Never mind all the crap with Aizawa; Ask are okay but they're not _great. _ I wanted us to be as good as _Nittle Grasper!_ And we're not! We're not even close! And it's all my fault!"

Hiro rolled his eyes impatiently, but Shuichi was insistent.

"We've got everything we ever dreamed of, Hiro – we've got Sakuma-san's manager and Seguchi's-san's cousin! We've got Sakano-san working himself into an early grave for us! We've finally got the full backing of NG! It's me! _I'm _the one brining it all down! I heard what else K-san said… a nationwide tour! He said it will make or break Bad Luck – that it's now or never for us! At the rate I'm going, it'll be cancelled before we get as far as Hokkaido! And I don't know what to do about it!

"Sometimes…" he added in a quieter, wearier tone, "I wonder… if I could just see Yuki again… you know? Just once? Or speak to him on the phone? Or even write him a letter or something?"

"Shuichi…!" Hiro gave him a look of gentle reproach.

"Yeah, I know it's stupid, but… it's like I'm stuck in a dream, like nothing's real… and maybe seeing Yuki again would wake me up… I tried to be more like Sakuma-san, you know… tried to focus only on Bad Luck… but it isn't working!" With a soft moan, Shuichi buried his face in his hands.

Hiro moved over to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. But to his surprise, when Shuichi looked up at him again those twilight-blue eyes were quite dry. And it suddenly occurred to Hiro that he had not seen Shuichi cry once since they had gone back to Yuki's place and learned that the novelist had run away to Kyoto.

"You want to go and get a drink?" Hiro suggested. They'd been doing a bit too much of that lately, but if it cheered Shuichi up just a little it had to be worth it.

Shuichi shook his head. "I'll be okay, Hiro… and I promise I'll apologise to Fujisaki in the morning. He's not such a bad kid… maybe he and I can have a go at song-writing together… if we don't throttle each other in the process… Anyway," he added with rather lukewarm enthusiasm as he picked up his laptop and they headed out towards the lifts, "I said I'd meet that Hitomi later on…"

"_Hitomi? _You mean you've got _another_ girl on the go? Man, you're getting more and more like Yuki-san everyday!"

The words were out before Hiro could stop them. But once they _were_ out, he realised just how true they seemed. Shuichi had been changing, slowly but surely. What had happened to the eternal optimist who always bounced back? What had happened to the boy who took rejection after rejection and carried on suiting himself, no matter what anyone – be it his parents or his teachers or Seguchi Tohma – might say to bring him down?

He knew with a sudden clarity it was that never-say-die attitude that had attracted him to Shindou Shuichi in the first place. He was so much like Hiro's own brother Yuuji who flunked audition after audition and came back smiling as if he had won an Oscar. Even as he had worked hard at his studies and tried his hardest to be a dutiful son, Hiro had sometimes wished he was more like Yuuji… and Shuichi had shown him how he could be.

Yuuji was still flunking auditions and still smiling. But Shuichi… Shuichi wasn't smiling much anymore.

"It passes the nights…" Shuichi muttered dismally, hardly reacting to the jibe at all. "You can't talk, anyway. None of your dates have been more than one night stands in the last few months…"

Hiro was infuriated to feel his face growing warm. The look Shuichi had given him was remarkably penetrating. It wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss, even with his best friend. He wasn't even sure he understood it himself.

He had spent two evenings in her company, and not in the conjugal sense. Nowhere near it. They had talked and shared a meal and played on the karaoke machine. The first time they hadn't even been alone together; Yuuji had been there acting like some unofficial chaperone!

She had been in love with another man. And now she was married to him. The story was over. At least one of them seemed to have got a happy ending.

Assuming she really _was_ happy…

_Back away, Hiroshi, _he warned himself, _don't go there…_

"Have a good evening, Shuichi-san!"

Hiro glanced over to the main reception desk, to where that pretty little new junior receptionist was waving brightly to his companion.

Shuichi grinned at her. "Yeah, you too Misako-chan!"

"Thank you for the CD," she called, "it's totally cool!"

Hiro scowled as they made their way out into the autumn air. "You banging her too, now?" he said unkindly, wondering if he was deliberately trying to provoke his friend and not sure why.

Shuichi merely smirked. "I'm more and more like Yuki, right? Love 'em and leave 'em. Or, to be more like Yuki, fuck 'em and leave 'em. Love doesn't have to come into it!"

"_Cut it out!" _

Shuichi blinked at him "What - ?"

"That sort of talk! The bad attitude! All of it! Cut it out, it doesn't suit you! You're not Yuki and you don't want to be!"

For a moment anger flashed in Shuichi's eyes, and Hiro tensed, ready for it. Ready for the explosion that had surely been brewing for months. But then Shuichi subsided into that same doleful lethargy. "Sorry, Hiro," he said, "you're right. I'll try. And no, I'm not sleeping with Misako. She's just a friend. Besides," he added with a quick grin, "her aunt is Seguchi-san's secretary! Any hanky-panky and I could be the next one getting married in a hurry!"

Hiro sighed. "Want me to drive you home?"

"Nah… I'll walk. I need time to think… 'night, Hiro…"

Hiro watched the other man walk away, head bent, hands buried in his pockets. There had to be a way out of this for them… there just _had _to be…

He started as his phone began to ring, half expecting it to be his parents or his brother or that girl he had been out with the night before and stupidly given his phone number to.

He stared at the caller ID in astonishment. Then he slowly raised the phone to his ear.

"…_Ayaka-chan…?"_

* * *

**TBC: **So what does Ayaka want? Well, we'll get to that later. For now, Aizawa is having even less fun surfing the net than Shuichi, and things go very wrong when Mika makes one of those valiant attempts of hers at reasoning with Eiri… you'd think she would have learned by now…


	8. Chapter 8: Confrontation

**CHAPTER 8: CONFRONTATION** Aizawa confronts his band-mates, while Mika confronts Eiri…

**QUICK NOTE: **I've never "done" Ask, but as virtually every Grav character gets at least a small say in this story, I thought I'd give them a little time. I have no idea who wrote their music, of course – we never even saw them perform! – but I thought it would be quite interesting to present things this way…

* * *

Aizawa Taki burst into the room with a face like thunder. But for once, though they looked a little sheepish, his two band mates did not immediately stir themselves into action.

"_Is it true?" _He yelled at them.

Maa-kun continued to tune his guitar without looking up. "Is what true, Tachi?"

Ask's lead singer flung a sheaf of printed papers at his friend. "Have you actually been talking to that prancing, squeaky-voiced fairy Takahashi Toru about forming a _band?"_

Maa-kun glanced down at one of the papers which had landed on the table in front of him. "You shouldn't read all that shit they put on the internet…"

"Yeah," Ken suddenly put in with forced good humour, "the other day my sister phoned me up in tears because she'd seen on some website I was planning to have a sex change!"

"_I asked you if it was TRUE!"_

His two friends exchanged a furtive glance. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Maa-kun put his guitar aside and looked up into Taki's flashing eyes. "Takahashi-san came to talk to us. He's pissed off with the rest of Night Flightand he's looking for a change."

Taki still stared down at him, breathing hard. "And what did _you _say?"

"I… we… said we'd think about it."

"_WHAT?" _Taki took a step forward, his fists clenched. "What the hell's got into you? Do you really think you can get anywhere without _me? _I _am _Ask!"

"You might sing the songs," Ken said softly, "but we write the music, and we play it."

"Tachi," the guitarist said tiredly, rubbing his eyes, "just sit the fuck down and listen for once, will you?"

Reluctantly, Taki sat. Some of the anger seemed to melt away from him as he looked across at Maa-kun, remembering only too well the beating his friend had taken trying to protect him from that psychopath Yuki Eiri. "If this is about what happened to you… I said I was sorry. I've said it again and again…"

"It's not about that," Maa-kun replied. "It's not about Bad Luck or Shindou or anything like that. It's about _you._ And what sort of guy you're turning into. It used to be _fun, _Taki – winding up Bad Luck, joking around, even getting into a few fights… but you always go too _far. _You've spread rumours about Shindou and Seguchi-san's brother in law! You've broken the kid up with his boyfriend – you've even had him _gang-banged_ for fuck's sake! And tried to blackmail him on top of it! And you _still _can't leave it alone! If you're Ask," he finished with another deep sigh, "then I don't want to be a part of it!"

"In case you didn't notice," Taki retorted with renewed anger, "it was that little queer who assaulted _me _not too long ago!"

"Yeah," Ken said, "but _we_ heard what you said to him before he did it. You're real sick, Tachi."

"If Bad Luck are so crap, and we're so great," Maa-kun continued, "why can't we beat them fair and square? Maybe you don't think you're good enough to compete with Shindou after all?"

"_Shut up!"_

"Yeah, I'll shut up when you open your eyes! Listen to me… I don't trust that American guy, and I don't trust Seguchi-san either. I think Sakuma Ryuichi's got a soft spot for Shindou and Seguchi-san knows it! You don't need the internet to hear what's going on! I've heard Nittle Grasper are planning some TV appearance soon… and there's a rumour they've invited Bad Luck to be on the show with them! Bad Luck, Tachi… not Ask! It sounds to me like you might be making us some pretty powerful enemies!"

Taki said nothing. The memory of that concert, months ago, where Bad Luck had opened for Ask, was still fresh and bitter. The surprise guest appearance of Sakuma-san at the concert was supposed to have been Ask's coup, not Bad Luck's! What the hell had got into Sakuma, just because that pink haired moron had forgotten his lyrics or had stage fright or whatever the hell it was! What was it about Shindou that attracted the attention of Sakuma, of Seguchi, even of Sakuma's former manager? The guy was an _idiot!_

_Yeah, _a voice in Taki's head mocked, _an idiot who can get dumped on an imbecilic game show and still turn it into a triumph! Could you have sung like that? You would have thought it beneath your dignity, but he carried it off…_

If he had disliked Shindou before, that was the moment he had actively started to hate him. For weeks afterwards all people seemed to talk of was Bad Luck's début at Ask's concert – how that young vocalist had been rescued by his idol (wasn't it so _romantic?)_ and how they had sung together. In interviews supposed to be about Ask's concert tour all the reporters seemed to want to know was whether the whole thing had been a set-up and how Ask felt about being used for some publicity stunt to sell Ryuichi Sakuma's new video.

From then on, hatred had become near obsession. The sound of Shindou's voice on the radio – the very sight of his asinine features grinning out at him with boyish cuteness from a poster on the walls of NG records – had been enough to raise Taki's body temperature to a boiling heat of pure rage. Night after night he had lain awake, dreaming up scheme after scheme for permanently removing Shindou from the music scene…

Now it was the coldest of shudders which passed down Taki's spine as he remembered what Claude K Winchester had whispered in his ear the day he had been called into Seguchi's office to discuss his broken teeth - something along the lines of personally doing to him what he had had done to Shindou, only with his own severed testicles shoved into his mouth to stifle his screams.

When he had finally got into Seguchi's office and said he would not press charges, the President had looked mildly pleased, but there was a hard edge in those turquoise eyes… a flicker of contempt as he noted that he would not have NG's reputation dragged through the mud by some childish playground rivalry. There was a copy of _Pop Beat _lying on his desk as he spoke. The meaning was clear.

He wanted to insist that it didn't matter – that if NG Records dropped them they would find another company to take them on. But he wasn't sure anyone would touch them if Seguchi-san let them go.

And suddenly he realised he wasn't sure they were good enough to survive on their own.

_Face it, _that same sneering voice admonished, _Shindou has something. Something you don't. You knew it the moment you set eyes on him, before you even heard him sing. Sure, he looks a little like Sakuma Ryuichi at first glance, but it's more than that. He's got a good voice, but it's more than that too. _

_It's him. It's just _him. _Whatever you do to him, he's going to surpass you. However you attack him, there'll always be people ready to defend him. Even that Yuki Eiri leapt to his defence. You risked everything… your career… your friends… your self respect… maybe even your life (don't pretend you don't remember that look in Yuki's eyes!) and it got you nowhere. In the end, you'll only end up destroying yourself._

"All right," he said, his voice coming out in a harsh gasp, "all right. No more. I promise."

His friends looked at him expressionlessly for a moment, before Ken suggested ordering pizza and trying out the new song they'd been working on. But even as they seemed to relax, the gnawing tension built in Taki's gut and he had a chilling sense of foreboding, as if it was already far too late to go back.

* * *

She found him sitting out on the porch with a packet of cigarettes, an ashtray full of butts and a quarter-full bottle of scotch by his side; a cigarette in one hand and a glass in the other.

"You're drunk," she observed wryly, coming to stand over him with her hands on her hips.

"Yeah?" Eiri looked up at her with bleary eyes. He had lost weight, she noted with dismay, and his face had taken on a waxy pallor, as if he was developing a fever. But when she touched a hand to his brow, his skin was cold. "Well you'd start drinking too if you were stuck in this creepy old house night after night."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing in a way," Mika sighed, finally sitting down beside him and taking one of his cigarettes. "From what Tohma's told me, you're a lot chattier when you're intoxicated."

"Is there anything Tohma _doesn't _tell you?"

"He _is _my husband, Eiri… though sometimes he seems more like a mediator between the two of us…"

Eiri raised his cigarette to his lips, took a long drag on it and crushed it out. "You want me to talk, Mika? I'll talk. I hate this house. It's driving me nuts. I keep remembering things. I thought it would stop when I got rid of that damned brat, but coming back here has only made it worse. The memories keep forcing their way up… things I was glad to have forgotten… things in my childhood…"

"It wasn't as bad as you remember it, Eiri…"

"Easy for you to say. I can even remember Mother look at me funny once or twice… maybe she thought there'd been a mix-up at the maternity hospital! I know some of the neighbours used to whisper that she'd had an affair with some foreign tourist… I guess that must've pissed her off…"

"That's completely unfair," Mika whispered with a stab of pain. "Mother thought you were beautiful. We all did."

Eiri gave a non-committal grunt and sipped his drink. "I keep remembering things about New York too. Things about… Yuki… I thought it would stop… with _him_ out of my life I thought it would stop…"

"Eiri, listen to me." Mika put a hand on his arm. He glanced sharply at her, but then looked away. "What the hell is going on with you? Father says Ayaka's gone home to her parents! For how long?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"_Because I'm asking you!"_

"How the hell should I know?"

Mika took a deep breath. She wanted to throw it all in his face – the suspect and increasingly frequent trips back to Tokyo; the rumours flying about once again of his promiscuity – now with the added spice of adultery; Ayaka's quite obvious unhappiness and now her desertion. But there was no point in starting to scream at him; he was too good at tuning her out. "Eiri, you can't just leave things like this! Tell me what's going on!"

"There's no point. It's never going to work. It was a mistake from the beginning. I knew it'd be a mistake but I did it anyway. I have to admit I thought I'd be able to stick it out longer, but like I said, I hate this place."

"Then get away from it. Just for a while. But take Ayaka-chan with you!"

"No." Eiri leaned back and closed his eyes. "Ayaka is what you all thought I needed. But for me she represents everything I thought I'd be leaving behind the day Tohma took me to New York… duty, tradition, submission, conformity, convention…"

"You're judging her too harshly," Mika protested, "I know she's young and shy, but there's more to her than that! It's only been nine months! You haven't even given her a chance!"

"I don't want to give her a chance. I don't want to get used to her. I don't want our marriage to work. If I felt happy for one moment married to Ayaka and stuck under this roof I'd cut my own throat. It's different for you and Tatsuha – you both suit yourselves. You both lead your double lives and no-one cares…"

"You're the eldest son, Eiri…"

"To hell with that." Eiri refilled his glass. "Look, let's get one thing straight – I didn't marry Ayaka because I wanted her or liked her or thought I needed her; I didn't marry her because of some stupid obligation to her family or ours and I certainly didn't marry her so I could move back into this hellhole and become a priest. I married her for one reason and one reason only – to get the hell away from Shindou Shuichi!"

"I _knew _it," Mika cried with sudden indignation, "I _knew _that boy would be trouble! From the moment I saw him I – "

"Don't." Eiri turned to look at her with burning hazel eyes. "Just don't," he breathed, "don't say one more word."

"Eiri – "

"I mean it Mika – just _leave him alone!"_

"All I'm saying…"

"It isn't his fault, okay? Nothing that's happened was his fault! It's nothing that he's said or done. It's _my _fault, not his. None of what happened to him would have happened if I hadn't…" he trailed of, wincing as he swallowed down the contents of his glass in one gulp.

Mika watched him in distress. "I knew you weren't ready for this… not for something this intense; and with a _boy…_ Shuichi was too… full-on, too demanding, too naïve, too…"

"Too much like I used to be?" Eiri gave a humourless grunt of laughter. "That's the truth, isn't it? Pity it took me so bloody long to see it!"

"I tried to warn you," Mika hissed, "but you just dug your heels in the way you always do! Sometimes I think you only took up with that poor boy just to be contrary!"

"Think whatever the hell you like…" The tone was mocking, but a brief flicker of pain across her brother's pale features told her in this, at least, she had done him an injustice.

"Oh, _Eiri…!" _Mika cried in exasperation, "why did you have to be so damn _stubborn?_ Why couldn't you have just married Ayaka _before_ you met Shuichi?"

"If I hadn't met Shuichi," Eiri answered slowly, "I would have just gone on the way I was… half in a dream… forever… until I died."

"You're being melodramatic," Mika sighed, "you're still only twenty-three!"

"I feel a hundred," Eiri declared. "I felt young… when I was with Shuichi. I didn't want to be with him. I didn't want to let him get close to me. But there's something about him… my being a man didn't worry him… neither did the fact I was a complete shit to him the first few times we met and I haven't been much better since. I liked the fact that he wouldn't take any crap from me, even about his lyrics, even though I was a writer. I liked the fact that he just thought I was "cool", not because I was handsome or rich or famous but just… _because_…"

"Ayaka's the same!" Mika insisted.

"No, she isn't. She fell in love with her fiancée. She doesn't know me. She's never seen the real me."

"And Shuichi _has?"_

"Yeah. Only the gods know how, because I've tried my best to hide from him, but he sees right through me. It's like he's linked into me… like he's connected to something inside of me… Ayaka would've put up with me the way I am now, for as long our marriage lasted, if I'd given her the slightest encouragement… Shuichi would never settle for that. When I'm a bastard he tells me I'm a bastard. When I do something he doesn't understand, he asks _why_…"

"But don't you see that's _why_ he's no good for you?" Mika demanded, "you're still not strong enough!"

"It's too late for that now," Eiri answered so softly she could hardly hear him. "It was too late the day we met. I started it, but Shuichi will finish it… even if he's miles away in Tokyo…"

"Eiri, what are you talking about?"

He ignored her, tilting back his head to gaze up at the dusky sky with eyes misted with alcohol. "I wonder if he still loves me now. If he's still waiting for me to love him back… he was so _sure_ I would…"

"Did you?" Mika couldn't help asking, _"do _you, Eiri?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if I'd recognise it if I felt it. All I know is that though life with him could be pretty tough, life _without _him…" Eiri trailed off, shaking his head before burying it in his hands.

"Eiri…?" Mika put a hand over his, but he shrugged her off.

"My head's hurting. It keeps hurting these days…"

Mika stared out into the garden, unable to make out much in the fading light. Her head was spinning from the simple strangeness of this long conversation with her normally uncommunicative brother. She was tired and she didn't feel much like staying in Kyoto overnight. Normally she loved this house; loved the peace it gave her compared to her busy city existence. Tohma understood that – he never complained when she made her frequent visits here to care for her father. But tonight she could suddenly empathise with her brother. She wanted to get away from here. She wanted to go back to her husband, to his reassuring presence and his deep understanding of herself and her brother.

"So what happens now?" She asked Eiri. "I need to know, if we're going to sort this mess out."

"Sort it out…" Eiri gave another bitter chuckle. "That's right. You and Tohma come in to clear up my mess again. Forget it. I have to go back to Tokyo."

"To be near Shuichi?" The words were out before she could take them back.

Eiri just shook his head. "To be near my shrink. The one she referred me to here is an arsehole. Don't worry, Mika-rin…" he mumbled, letting his glass drop with a despondent thud onto the wooden floor, "Tokyo's a big city and I've got no intention of going looking for the brat... not even if I want to…"

"Oh Eiri…" Mika reached out and drew him gently into her arms. For once he didn't resist, and the two of them remained embraced in silence for what seemed an eternity.

"Mika-rin…" Eiri whispered at length.

"Yeah, Eiri-chan?"

"I think I'm going to puke."

Mika could not help bursting into exasperated laughter as she pulled away from him. "Think you can make it to the bathroom or do you need a bucket?"

Eiri didn't answer. He clapped a hand to his mouth, his face convulsing as he began to retch. With dawning horror Mika watched the dark red liquid seeping through his fingers.

_Blood, _she told herself stupidly, _that's… blood._

* * *

**TBC: **Does this sound familiar? Anyway, Shuichi is horrified to hear that Eiri is unwell and his first impulse is to rush to his side…


	9. Chapter 9: Hospital

**CHAPTER 9: HOSPITAL – **Shuichi is horrified to hear that Eiri has been taken ill, and his first impulse is to rush to his side. Meanwhile, Ayaka blames herself for her husband's condition, but Eiri's thoughts are elsewhere…

**Quick note - **just to say thank you to all who are reading. This chapter is a good example of why I had so much fun writing this. I have always loved the parallel universe / alternative history scenario where things are different but still connected to real events, so that you can see the possibility of the original events within the alternate ones. Hope you enjoy it...

* * *

_I don't understand anything anymore… myself least of all…_

Shuichi frowned as he looked at himself in the dressing-room mirror. Why couldn't he be more excited? Why wasn't he bouncing off the walls with happiness? Sakuma Ryuichi himself had requested Bad Luck to perform with Nittle Grasper on _Hit Stage! _It was a dream come true!

_Instead I'm just plain scared._

He supposed he had a right to be nervous, but this felt different. There was an icy feeling deep down in his belly.

_I'm not good enough. That's what it is. I _know _I'm not good enough._

He couldn't tell the others. They'd say it was nerves or make him practise yet again. They wouldn't understand. Even Hiro couldn't understand.

All the same, he was looking forward to seeing Sakuma-san again. If there was one person who really _could _understand, it might just be him...

_Who are you kidding? Why would he waste his time?_

But there had been _something _between them… hadn't there? Ryuichi had been so kind that day from hell when even Hiro had turned against him… there had been understanding in that friendly gaze… there had been empathy…

_It was like looking in a mirror – and seeing a reflection of what I might become. What I believed I _could _become. There was so much I believed in back then…_

"Shuichi-san…" A nervous female voice awoke him.

"Misako-chan!" Shuichi turned in surprise. "What are you doing up here? Did you want to watch the rehearsal? Hey, what's wrong?"

The little receptionist edged uncertainly into the room. "Shindou-san… I… listen… you promise you won't say anything? I mean, maybe it's not that important to you, and I know it's wrong of me to listen to gossip, but I… I… the thing is, I heard Aunty Kiku talking to my mum this morning about how Seguchi–san had to leave for Kyoto first thing, and well… I'd heard… well... that you and... I'd heard you were pretty close..."

"Close? Close to _who?"_ Shuichi stared at her with a growing sense of anxiety. "Misako-chan… what's happened…?"

* * *

The long trip on the motorbike was like a never-ending nightmare. Shuichi rested his head against Hiro's back and closed his eyes, fighting down waves of nausea.

_It's my fault, it's all my fault, all my fault, all my fault…_

The words ran through his head like some pulsating club rhythm.

_I threw that book into the fountain, I said I hated him, I said I wished I'd never met him, I was so angry at Yuki, I couldn't get past that, I didn't know how to get past that, I was so angry, I felt so betrayed, it hurt so much, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter now because if anything happens to Yuki I'll die, I'll die, I'll die…_

He shook his head to clear it, but as soon as he closed his aching eyes once more the rhythm began again.

_It doesn't matter, none of it matters, it doesn't matter if Yuki doesn't love me, it doesn't matter if he hates me now, I don't care if he never speaks to me again, I don't care as long as he's okay, so please, God, please let him be okay…_

Shuichi could hardly believe it when they finally pulled up in front of the hospital. "Are we really here?"

"Looks like it," Hiro told him with a faint smile as he pulled off his helmet, and then began to tug at Shuichi's. "You don't want to go in wearing that – you'll probably frighten the crap out of the poor guy. Go on, I'll wait for you out here."

But Shuichi did not move at once. His heart was thumping hard and he felt a little dizzy.

_Yuki. In a moment I'm going to see Yuki._

He felt as nervous as he had the night he had gone to Yuki's flat just after his concert. Up until then, on their previous meetings, he had been in too bad a temper to worry about what sort of reception he would get, or even why he wanted to see the writer so badly. Even when Yuki had mocked him, claiming he knew Shuichi was in love with him, it hadn't seemed quite real. But that night… he had known he was going to the one he loved… and was hoping… dreaming… of ending the night in his arms.

And now? What now? Yuki was married. Maybe he would be angry at Shuichi for turning up. Maybe his whole family would be there, even Uesugi-san. Maybe those malicious rumours about Yuki having mistresses weren't true and he had really learned to care for Ayaka…

"Hey." Hiro patted him on the shoulder. "Go on. You've come all this way."

"Yeah." Shuichi drew in a deep breath. "Thanks, Hiro…"

"For what?"

"For not telling me I'm an idiot."

Hiro shrugged. "It was a nice night for a ride…"

Shuichi glanced over to the flower stall outside the hospital. "Hey, do you think I should get him some flowers? How about pink? That'd really piss him off!"

A moment later, carrying a large bunch of pink orchids, Shuichi made his way quietly through the hospital corridors. All it had taken to find Yuki's room was his autograph on the back of a hospital canteen menu for the giggling young receptionist and promise to send her tickets when the Bad Luck tour came this way.

But just as he was about to knock on the door, he heard a familiar voice echoing the words which had taunted him all the way from Tokyo.

"_It's my fault… all my fault…"_

Ayaka. That was Ayaka.

"Ayaka, no-one's blaming you… Eiri, for god's sake say something!"

That was Mika.

"Forget about it." The sound of Yuki Eiri's deep tones sent shivers through Shuichi's body. "It wasn't your fault. I've been overdoing it… it wouldn't have made any difference if you'd been there."

"I still shouldn't have left!" Ayaka was now in tears.

"Look, I said it wasn't your fault." Yuki again, sounding impatient as usual. Some things never changed. "It's like I was saying to Mika. It was too late, that's all…"

The sound of Ayaka weeping pitifully.

Shuichi looked down at the flowers. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't walk in there right now and turn everything upside down. Yuki was right. It was too late.

* * *

Ayaka drew in a deep, shaky breath and wiped at her eyes. Eiri gazed up at her impassively from the bed and could think of nothing to say to her.

A bleeding ulcer. Serious, but not fatal. Good. He didn't want to die… at least not before he'd finished that damn book, even if it really would eat him alive.

"Wh-what did you mean just now - ?" Ayaka asked him haltingly, "a-about it being too late?"

Eiri sighed softly. "I think you know," he said. "Better than anyone. I think you've always known." He hesitated, lowering his eyes. "For what it's worth… I'm... I'm sorry."

He watched with lingering detachment as Ayaka buried her face in his lap and began to cry. After a moment, however, he managed to reach out a hand and absently stroke her long hair.

As Ayaka's sobs gradually subsided, Eiri closed his eyes.

He was _here._ Eiri could _feel _it. He was definitely close by. In spite of himself, he felt a rush of pleasure that could not be ignored. He wanted to see him. He _wanted _to, damn it. He _needed _to. He didn't care what the others said.

He opened his eyes as he heard soft footsteps, glancing across at the worried face of his sister as she and her husband returned with the coffee they had retreated to buy. Looking up at the same time, Ayaka wiped her tear-stained cheeks. "I think I'd like to go home now," she said with fragile dignity.

"I'll drive you, Ayaka-san," Tohma offered, but Eiri's wife shook her head.

"No. Thank you, Seguchi-san. It's not far for me… and I'd like to get some fresh air."

"Ayaka…!" Mika watched her sister-in-law depart before turning to glare at her brother. "Eiri…!"

He ignored her. "That coffee smells good… did you get me any?"

"Eiri, for god's _sake…"_ Mika was off again. Telling him a change of scene would do him good. Saying that he needed to work at his marriage. Hadn't she heard a word of what he'd said to her that evening? Now she was suggesting leaving Japan – that talk of moving back to Tokyo must really have put the wind up her. She was suggesting he try Europe… or America…

"Yeah," Eiri said when he could muster the energy, "how about New York?"

Tohma caught his glance, and then looked away in confusion. Eiri could almost feel the quick workings of his mind. He had kept noticeably quiet through all of this, probably reluctant to interfere in family matters. But when it came to matters outside the family…

"Where is he?" Eiri demanded suddenly.

Both Mika and Tohma looked at him blankly. "Who, Eiri-san?" Tohma asked.

"The little idiot. The brat. What's happened to him? Did you scare him off?"

"If you mean Shindou-san," Tohma said with convincing innocence, "I believe he's still in Tokyo!"

"Are you feeling funny?" Mika clapped a hand anxiously to Eiri's brow, then glanced anxiously at her husband.

Eiri watched them both through narrowed eyes. "Forget it. It's probably the medication."

* * *

"I still say this is a bad idea, Eiri," Mika complained as she steered the wheelchair out of the ward, pushing him back down when he tried to get out of it. "You're supposed to be resting!"

"I can rest at home," her brother grunted. "This place is even more depressing than Dad's temple. Look, I'm letting you and Ayaka fuss over me for a few days. You can even ration the coffee, booze and fags. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"As far as Ayaka goes, you'll be lucky if she doesn't poison your food," Mika answered sourly.

"If all I'm going to be allowed is boiled vegetables and rice, she's welcome to try… it might even improve the flavour…"

"_Eiri…!"_

"If you don't want to drive me home, I'll call Tohma and tell him to take me straight back to Tokyo. I'm sure he'd do it if I asked," Eiri declared with deliberate malice.

"Arsehole," Mika muttered under her breath. For the most part, Tohma's bond with Eiri had been a relief to her; since New York, he had remained one of the few people Eiri might actually open up to – and one of the very few who could still influence him for the good. But there were times, much as she loved Eiri, that his presuming on the obligation – and the love – her husband still felt to him, made her quite furious.

Seguchi Tohma might have a mind as sharp as a knife but he couldn't hide from her. She knew only too well the trouble he had bailed Eiri out of on numerous occasions, thinking that his wife remained blissfully ignorant. He had largely stayed out of Eiri's troubles of late because there was very little he could do without being seen to be interfering in matters private to the Uesugi and Usami families. He could be what he had been since he and Eiri had first met – a devoted and non-judgemental friend.

Sometimes in the past Tohma had been too pre-emptive, chasing off overeager girlfriends or otherwise rescuing Eiri before he was actually in danger, and then Eiri would bite back, but never with enough force to make a mark. One day Eiri might find just how powerful Tohma's protective instincts could be, and he would not like the results.

At the moment, however, even Tohma was not having much luck with Eiri - from what her husband had told her, he too had found Eiri colder and more uncommunicative than ever since his marriage.

"Good-bye, Uesugi-san," chirped the plump little student-nurse on the reception desk, smiling shyly at Eiri as he and Mika came past, "I – uh – I don't suppose you'd – uh – " She held out a copy of one of his novels.

"That's enough of that, Satsu," admonished the ferocious looking ward sister, bustling over with a face like thunder. But Eiri dropped the old battleaxe in her tracks with one of his most disarming smiles before reaching to take Satsu's book.

"Oh my, what beautiful orchids!" Mika enthused, hiding the smile she could not bite back by almost burying her face in the elegant pink flowers carefully arranged in a vase on the desk.

"Oh, yes!" Satsu cried, "they were a gift from Shindou Shuichi! The lead singer of Bad Luck," she added helpfully, when both Mika and Eiri turned to stare at her in stunned silence.

"I said that's quite _enough!"_ the matron snapped, evidently recovering her wits after Eiri's surprise attack, "what utter nonsense – some scruffy boy with dyed hair gives you flowers and says he's a pop star…"

"It _was _him!" Satsu insisted with some distress. Apparently this argument had been going on for some time. "He came by the evening after Uesugi-san was admitted, and on the way out again he gave me – well, the hospital – the flowers and said they were compliments of Bad Luck! And he promised to send me and Naduki-chan tickets when the band comes this way on their tour!"

"Then it was probably some silly publicity stunt," Matron declared disdainfully. "Do you really think this Shindou-san person came all the way from Tokyo to deliver a bunch of flowers?"

"Oh no, of course not, he came to visit… _oh…!"_ Satsu suddenly broke off, her eyes growing very wide. She stole a sideways glance at Eiri, turned bright red and then took off down the corridor squeaking something about having forgotten to pick up someone's notes from endoscopy.

"Girls today," grumbled Matron, scowling after the girl with her hands on her broad hips.

Mika ignored her. In a daze she looked down at her brother; but he didn't return her gaze. He was lost in his own world, a quiet but unmistakably contented little smile upon his lips.

* * *

**TBC: **Ayaka is a woman on a mission! While she works to make up for what she regards as her mistake, Hiro struggles to deal with his feelings for her…


	10. Chapter 10: Ayaka

**CHAPTER 10: AYAKA - **is a woman on a mission! While she works to make up for what she regards as her mistake, Hiro struggles to deal with his feelings for her…

* * *

They made the drive home in stony silence, Mika working hard to shut out the thoughts buzzing through her head. If there had been anything going on, any contact at all, surely Tohma would have told her? He had Shindou-kun under his gaze almost ever day, and his ever faithful Sakano to report on the boy's movements while he was away. For a while she had all but demanded it, determined there were to be no hysterical scenes and no tearful reunions just weeks into Eiri's marriage.

But when nothing happened she had relaxed and been glad to do it. She meant no ill will to the young vocalist – if things had been different she might have grown very fond of him. She still was grateful for his ability to see through the shield of bravado, invented image and lies her brother had surrounded himself with and apparently fall in love with the Eiri underneath it all. It proved that she and Tohma were not locked in some mutual delusion – that the Eiri they remembered was _not _lost to them forever. Maybe, just maybe, if Eiri had been stronger… better able to cope…

It was a foolish notion, of course. Eiri _wasn't_ strong enough for the demands of Shuichi and besides, there were still obligations to his family he had yet to discharge. A sigh escaped Mika at the thought of that – the harder she was forced to pester him about his duty, the more it seemed like a lost cause. And now that the marriage to Ayaka, having finally happened, looked as though it might already be on the rocks, she was seriously beginning to wonder if it wasn't time to let it go… though she doubted she would ever get their father to agree.

Well, whatever happened with Ayaka or the temple, the issue of Shuichi remained. She had pointedly avoided asking Tohma about him since the wedding, taking refuge in wilful ignorance and allowing herself to assume he had gotten over her brother and moved on.

That moment at the reception desk, all her old anxieties had flooded back.

When they finally reached home, Eiri allowed her to help him out. He was weak and a little giddy after two days with very little to eat, but he did not seem to be in any great discomfort.

Uesugi Ayaka was standing on the porch, hands behind her back, head bent in greeting; the perfect, dutiful wife. Mika almost wished the poor girl had not come back – she was in no temper to watch her being cold-shouldered by her sullen husband.

But Eiri merely greeted his wife with a small bow.

"I hope you're feeling better, Eiri-san…?" Ayaka asked softly. Her face was very still; though she looked pale, her stance was resolute.

"I'll live."

"Perhaps, then, you'd like to sit in the garden for a while? So that you and I could talk a little?"

A look passed between the couple that Mika could not understand. Then Eiri nodded, and they walked slowly away together.

Something was definitely up with Hiro. Even through the clouds of his own gloom, Shuichi could feel it. If there was one good thing that had come out of his disastrous first love affair, it was surely that his own suffering had made him a lot more sensitive to the moods and the feelings of those around him. Turning up late for work, aggravating Sakano-san, objecting to Fujisaki Suguru's input on principle or even going into long sulks because Seguchi Tohma had interfered with Bad Luck… it all seemed so wasteful. So… unprofessional.

_Hell, I can't even remember the last time I cried…_

Every time he did something stupid, all he could hear was Yuki Eiri declaring him to be a moron. How ironic it was for his better self to speak to him in Yuki's voice!

_Maybe I'm just growing up,_ he thought dismally, wishing he could feel prouder of himself. _Or maybe I've just given up…_

He forced himself to focus on Hiro again. His friend seemed troubled and on edge. Neither of them had gone out drinking or clubbing in at least a month – it was a good thing, as they had so much work to do in preparation for Bad Luck's _Gravity_ tour. But it was not something they had openly decided. Hiro didn't seem to be seeing any girls; yet every time his phone rang he would disappear to take the call in private. And there were times Shuichi caught his friend stealing furtive glances in his direction.

Hiro almost looked… guilty.

Shuichi couldn't for the life of him think what the guitarist had to feel guilty about. If he was dating some girl Shuichi had been out with – even Buki – did he really think Shuichi would care?

Unless it was nothing to do with girls. Maybe it was to do with Bad Luck. Maybe Hiro felt let down by Shuichi. Maybe he was about to do an Ask and look for a new vocalist… or maybe he was planning to pack it in all together…

So deeply was Shuichi plunged in thought that he actually jumped when the intercom buzzer rang.

"Shu-kun?" Hiro's voice came, tinny and hesitant. "Can I come up?"

"Don't be stupid, Hiro, of course you can!" Shuichi chuckled uneasily, hitting the door release. Why did Hiro sound so uncertain?

_Maybe this is it,_ he thought, feeling a hot prickling sensation running up his spine. _He's going to leave me. No. Not him too… I couldn't take it… there may be no music in my head without Yuki, but there's no Bad Luck without Hiro…_

"Hey, what's up…?" he greeted his friend with a wavering smile as he opened the door to his flat.

"Shu, I…" Hiro swallowed audibly. "Listen man, I've brought someone to see you…"

_YUKI!_ Light and colour exploded in Shuichi's mind. _He's been in contact with Yuki! Yuki wants to come back to me but he's just too shy! Yuki wants to come back to me and in a moment I'll…_

…_stop thinking like a complete moron. _

_Yuki! Yuki! Yuki! You're so annoying…_

Shuichi caught his breath as he crashed painfully back to earth. "Who is it…?"

Hiro glanced over his shoulder and beckoned to someone Shuichi could not see. A second later a diminutive female figure stepped into view, her head bent. So unexpected was the apparition that for an absurd moment he thought it was Buki. Until she spoke.

"G-good-morning, Shindou-san…"

"_Ayaka - ?"_ Shuichi stared stupidly at the girl who had married his lover.

She looked different – her black hair was tied back loosely and she was soberly dressed in a black skirt suit with a ruffled royal blue blouse; a black patent leather handbag tucked under one arm. She looked like what he supposed she now was – a respectable young Kyoto wife, married to a rich and successful novelist.

_Married._ For the first time since Yuki had left him, the truth of it became utterly real to Shuichi. Yuki was _married._ To _Ayaka._ Somewhere, on some unconscious level, he had not quite believed it… had believed… in spite of everything… in spite of the slow burning anger and the bitter sense of betrayal… that he would still get his Yuki back.

Now, reality was painfully hard to deny.

Yuki wasn't _his _Yuki anymore.

"Please forgive me for intruding like this," Ayaka began, bowing politely and briefly raising her crystal blue eyes to his face before quickly looking away, "but I _had_ to see you…"

"_Yuki…?" _Stricken by sudden, mindless panic, Shuichi glanced helplessly across at Hiro.

"Eiri-san is quite all right, Shindou-san," Ayaka cut in quickly before Hiro could respond. "Please… may I come in?"

"Uh – yeah… yeah, I guess so…" Struggling to shake off a persistent sense of unreality, Shuichi stepped back from the doorway and gestured vaguely towards the sofa.

"Um – right…" Shuichi shifted uneasily as Ayaka seated herself demurely, her gaze fixed upon the handbag in her lap. "Uh – why don't I make us some tea? Or… something…." He dived into the kitchen before either of the others could protest.

Fumbling to fill the kettle, Shuichi tried to restore order to his tumbling thoughts, but they kept on racing away from him, tripping over themselves in their eagerness to present scenario after unpleasant scenario. What – just _what_ could she possibly _want?_ Was she seriously hoping there could be some reconciliation? Between the two of them? Between the _three _of them? Was her temple-nurtured soul demanding it?

Was _Yuki's?_

The idea of Yuki sending Ayaka to him to appease his conscience – to tell him he was sorry, but had now achieved peace in a happy marriage – was beyond contemplation. The idea that Ayaka might have come here of her own choice, in some catastrophically misguided attempt to reassure Shuichi that Yuki was now happy, was scarcely better.

_I don't want to know, _Shuichi admitted to himself, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, _if Yuki's happier with Ayaka than he was with me… if he's even happy at all without me… I don't want to know. I suppose it's wrong of me… I suppose I should want him to be happy, but if he is, I don't want to hear about it._

_And if Yuki thought otherwise, it proves he never really knew me at all._

"Shu… let me take care of that." Hiro's voice was like a lifeline thrown to a man clinging to the side of a cliff. "Go on…" he nodded in Ayaka's direction.

"Hiro…?" Shuichi pleaded.

"Trust me," Hiro answered. Only two words, but they conveyed so much – his perfect understanding of Shuichi's confused whirl of emotions at the bizarre nature of this unexpected meeting; an acknowledgement of the accusations of betrayal Shuichi could so easily hurl at him.

Slowly Shuichi nodded. His trust in Hiro suddenly seemed to be the last thing left to cling to. Whatever the assumptions of Ayaka or Yuki, Hiro would know what Shuichi could or couldn't bear. Drawing in a deep breath, he headed out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Ayaka-chan," he heard himself say, "I – I mean, I don't want to be rude or anything, but… what do you _want?"_

Ayaka gave him a sympathetic smile, tinged with unmistakable sadness. "I… I have something important to tell you, Shindou-san. I… wanted you to hear this from me… before you heard it from anyone else." She drew in a soft breath. "Eiri-san and I are getting a divorce."

Shuichi stared stupidly at her. For a full moment he could neither move nor speak. Even when he managed to find his voice, he did not know what to say. He still did not even know what to _feel._

First there was simply relief from his earlier fears. Then there was an unmistakable surge of excitement. Of hope. Yes, he acknowledged, _hope,_ something he realised he had not felt in a long time. Then there was a hard, sharp reality check, followed by a wave of guilt.

All at once whole new selection of disturbing possibilities occurred to him and he blurted out the words before he could think. "Ayaka-chan, listen, I – no, wait, I – I don't know what you're thinking, but I want you to know I haven't seen or heard from Eiri – from Yuki – from – that is – since before the wedding, whatever you might have heard, I swear there's…"

"Please, Shindou-san," Ayaka interrupted quietly but firmly, "that's not why I'm here."

"Then… _why…?"_

Ayaka hesitated, apparently taking a moment to order her thoughts. She fiddled absently with her skirt, folding and smoothing the pleats, her slender fingers quick and restive.

"I've made my peace with my husband," she began carefully. "But I still haven't been able to make peace with myself, and I think in order to do that, I… need to make peace with you."

Shuichi shook his head dizzily. "I don't understand."

"I think you _do,_ Shindou-san," Ayaka insisted, "in fact… I think you're the only one who can. As always seems to be the case where Eiri-san is concerned, too much is left half-said or not said at all. I… have had a lot of time to think, these last few months. And it seems to me that so much has gone wrong for us because we did not understand one another. Shindou-san… you're the only other person I know who fell in love with Eiri-san… just as he is. Or at least…" she regarded him with a frown, "that's what I believed when I first met you. After you didn't come to Kyoto that day, I began to wonder…"

"_You_ sent Tatsuha…" Shuichi peered at Ayaka through narrowed eyes, feeling as though he was trying to find the door out of a darkened room, groping his way towards the light. All at once that painful night was almost photographically clear, right down to the words Eiri's brother had mumbled as he left. "You sent Tatsuha to get me… didn't you?"

Ayaka nodded. "I'd resigned myself… more or less… to losing him after I saw the two of you together… or, to be more specific, when I watched Eiri-san watching _you _during your concert, and knew he'd never looked at me the way he was looking at you."

Shuichi blushed and looked away, not wanting to hear such things. Ayaka hardly seemed to notice.

"I even admitted as much to Nakano-san that evening." She gave a soft, bitter laugh. "I comforted myself with lots of noble, selfless thoughts… I told myself it was better to step aside and let you make Eiri-san happy… and that after all, doing so would be far more dignified than fighting you for him and losing, or vainly hanging on and having people secretly laughing at me… or worse… feeling sorry for me…" She shuddered visibly.

Shuichi's sense of compassion was usually close to the surface, but only as he now felt a surge of sympathy for Ayaka did he realise how slow it had been in coming forward this time. There had been those rumours of Yuki's infidelity, of course, but with his reputation such gossip was inevitable. If the stories were true after all, he could only imagine how she must have felt – the unwanted pity she must have endured.

"That was how it was," Ayaka resumed abruptly, "when Eiri-san came to propose. It took me so much by surprise that for a long time I just didn't know what to make of it. I… knew he didn't love me… I didn't try to lie to myself about that… but I'd dreamed of it for so long and when he insisted that it was over between the two of you I couldn't help wondering if my chance had come at last… my chance to prove I could make him happy…

"That was what I wanted, more than anything else. I think perhaps that was what made me fall in love with him the day I met him… I could sense a… a void in him… an empty space… I longed to be the one to fill it; to make him smile and feel joy again…" She glanced shyly at Shuichi. "Was it the same for you?"

Shuichi did not answer her at once. This was such a strange, surreal conversation – never, in his wildest musings had he imagined he and Ayaka sitting down to talk about the man they both loved. Yet it was incredibly cathartic to do so. He needed this release, just as much as she did. It was just as she said – so much of the time with Yuki he had been left to speculate and guess and suppose. He had _thought_ Yuki hated him. Then he had thought that Yuki _might _like him. That evening Yuki had told him he would be his lover; he had even begun to think that Yuki _might _love him. Just a little. Even now he didn't know what Yuki had wanted from him in the first place – or, with absolute certainty, in spite of what he kept telling himself, exactly _why_ he had left.

"No…" he said finally, "no, it wasn't exactly like that… it was more like… I don't know… like there was a piece missing in _me_, something that stopped my songs and my singing being as good as they could be… and when I first saw Yuki in the park, I began to be sure that he was it. The missing piece." He sighed. "Sometimes I think I'd've been better off as I was… incomplete. It wasn't as if I noticed the missing bit… most of the time…"

"But were you happy as you were?"

"…No…" Shuichi admitted reluctantly. "No, I guess not."

_Then again, it's not like I'm exactly happy now… _He thought it, but stopped himself saying it. That was a matter between himself and Yuki.

At that moment, Hiro entered with a tea tray. Shuichi watched his friend serve it, too dazed to remember his duties as a host, sipping the hot tea eagerly. For a while silence reigned, but it was a patient silence – a break between bouts. Absently Shuichi observed his friend stealing a glance at Ayaka and saw an expression on Hiro's face that was not familiar. At some point, Shuichi reasoned dully, Hiro would have to explain what he was doing in contact with… in contact with Yuki's wife. But that could wait.

Suddenly Hiro mumbled something about going the shops for a packet of cigarettes and was gone before either of his companions could object. Feeling awkward once more, Shuichi put his mug on the table. "Why, Ayaka-chan?" he asked, "why did you send Tatsuha?"

For the first time Ayaka's resolve appeared to waver. She shifted uncomfortably and began to fold her skirt once more. "My first plan was to come to Tokyo myself, to talk to you. To ask you what had happened, and why you and Eiri-san weren't together anymore. He wouldn't tell me anything, of course… except that he wanted us to marry. I could have just accepted him… as I said, I was very tempted… but as I also said, I had seen the way Eiri-san looked at you… with desire," she added, a twinge of pain passing over her delicate features, "with… love."

Shuichi snorted derisively but said nothing. What had Tatsuha said that time he had come looking for Ayaka? _You and Ayaka are the same._ Yes, that was right. They _were_ the same. Too full of romantic dreams to see the truth. Ayaka had probably seen common, everyday lust in Yuki's eyes and mistaken it for some more tender sentiment.

"I couldn't just marry Eiri-san, knowing that he really wanted to be with someone else. I suppose I thought you and I could talk… just as we're doing now. I thought that you loved him just as much as I did, but… but I had to be sure. Had to be sure Eiri hadn't proposed to me because of something you'd done. I should have come myself." Ayaka's tone was suddenly hard and cold as stone. "I didn't. At the last moment I lacked the courage. To go against my family's wishes; to refuse Eiri-san's proposal; to… let him go. I told myself sending Tatsuha would be enough… that at least I'd be warning you…" She looked up suddenly, straight into his eyes. "Why _didn't _you come, Shindou-san?"

"I…" Shuichi drew in a deep breath. "Ayaka-chan, I… something _did _happen… something happened to me... and there _was _something I did… in a way... I mean... I can't…"

He couldn't tell her. Even if the shame and the horror of it didn't choke him every time he thought about it, it would surely only make Ayaka feel a hundred times worse if she realised the truth of why Yuki had agreed to their marriage at last. "I never wanted to hurt Yuki – I never wanted him to be hurt because of me… all I wanted to do was protect him, but… I ended up losing him because of it. At least," he added with an uncomfortable glance in the direction Hiro had gone, "that's the way _I _see it. At any rate, everything went wrong and he left me, without even saying good-bye. After that, I couldn't take anymore. I couldn't take any more rejection; any more disappointment… I was so _tired…_"

He saw the sparkle of tears in Ayaka's eyes and almost wished he could share in them. "I'm… so sorry, Shindou-san. It was all my fault. If I'd gone myself…"

"That's ridiculous, Ayaka-chan!" Shuichi protested, "it wasn't your fault! You warned me what was happening – which was a damn sight more than Yuki did! I should have gone to Kyoto and faced up to him myself!"

"Still, I should never have accepted him. He seemed more lost than ever when he proposed… he seemed so sad… and when you didn't come I told myself you didn't care and that I'd finally been given a chance to prove myself and make Eiri-san happy…"

"Listen to us!" Shuichi cried with sudden heat, "fighting over who's going to take the blame! We never learn, do we? Yuki'd kill himself laughing if he could hear us! It was Yuki who dumped me and ran away when I… when things got too tough for him! He didn't even have the balls to tell me to my face! He never gave a damn about my feelings and it sounds to me like he didn't give a damn about yours either! To hell with him! I'm done with worrying about that bastard's feelings and I'm done with loving him!"

"Shindou-san…" Ayaka put a gentle hand on Shuichi's arm. "Please don't close your heart to him. It was you he wanted all along. It was always you. He… we… just got lost along the way."

Shuichi stared at her in disbelief. "How can you _say _that, Ayaka-chan? How can you say it and _smile? _After all he's _done_ to you?"

Ayaka lowered her eyes. "Perhaps because having now given nearly three years of my life to loving and longing for someone who didn't love me back, I don't want to give any more years to useless bitterness. Perhaps because I know that my first instincts were the best, and I won't be happy until I've atoned for my weakness in not following them. Or perhaps," she added with a rueful smile, "because in spite of everything, I still want Eiri-san to be happy… even if it isn't with me."

* * *

"Ayaka-chan… you never cease to amaze me." Hiro shook his head as he sat down on the park bench and handed Ayaka a coffee. "Come to think of it, the two of you amazed me today…"

Ayaka smiled and shook her head, sipping slowly at her drink. "Please don't think of me as some sort of martyr, Nakano-san…"

"I'd much sooner you called me Hiro…_"_

"Oh!" Ayaka was embarrassed to find herself blushing. "I… I don't…" She caught her breath and took another sip. "The truth is, what I told Shindou-san was true. I had to make peace with him so that I could make peace with myself… and move on." She stole a shy glance at her companion and then quickly looked away. "Eiri-san is still deeply troubled. I felt… bad… letting him go when I knew how difficult things were for him, but I began to feel I was only making things worse. Without me, he has no reason to remain in Kyoto, and at least he can start to move on… and so can I."

"You're very brave, Ayaka-chan…"

"No. No, I'm not." She gave another sad smile. "If I was truly brave I would never have married Eiri-san. As it is, I have been shown – the hard way – why I was right to think of refusing him. I can't say I no longer love him… it's far too soon for that… but at least I can say I no longer hold out hope of being with him…"

She suddenly recalled her last conversation with her husband. She had cried so hard, both by his hospital bed and later when she had reached home. His words seemed to mock her. _It was too late, that's all. _So simple, so flat. So Eiri. But she could not deny she had understood what he meant, and perhaps, at least, she could take some satisfaction in the fact he _knew _that she did. By the time she had heard he was discharging himself from the hospital she was ready to face the full truth of it. She returned to the Uesugi home and waited for him.

They had walked in the garden and talked about what would happen next. She kept her words like his – simple and flat. She told him her terms and her concerns for their families. She could tell he was relieved that there were no more tears or hysterics. He looked tired and lost.

Had he listened to the other things she had said? About Shindou-san? Ayaka wasn't sure. He would probably think what Hiro was no doubt thinking right now – that she was trying to be saintly and self-sacrificial. But it wasn't so. She _wanted _Eiri to find happiness. She felt she could not stand if he didn't. She was not absolutely sure why, but she knew she wanted it more than anything.

"Ayaka-chan…"

The sound of her name, spoken so softly, shook her from her thoughts. Hiro's voice had dropped to barely a whisper. When she turned to face him, meaning to apologise for her inattention, he leaned forward and kissed her.

She did not fight. She did not _want_ to fight. It had been a long time since she had slept with her husband in the conjugal sense and she missed it. She had found herself, of late, missing a man's touch… missing the lovemaking itself; not just the man who made love to her. But she didn't think she had fully realised just much experience had changed her until this moment. It changed how she perceived everyone and everything – including Hiro.

She dared to reach up and touch his cheek. It was amazing – confusing – but also stimulating – to be suddenly so aware of Hiro's masculinity, of his good looks; of his desire for her. Before her marriage she had hardly let herself speculate on what it would be like with Eiri, let alone with another man. Now her new awareness made her feel dizzy.

Hiro was stroking her hair – lightly touching her. His kiss was tender and passionate and held so much more feeling than Eiri's ever had. All at once Ayaka felt a great sadness. This was how it might have been with Eiri – if she could have made him love her. She found herself choking on tears she could not suppress.

Hiro drew back at once. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I don't know what I…"

Ayaka shook her head, wiping at her eyes with a nervous giggle. "No, it's all right, Na – Hiro-san… I… I'm just such a fool… but… Eiri-san… never kissed me like that…" When she saw his pained expression, she reached out boldly to clasp his hand. "It's too soon," she told him honestly, "too soon for me to be sure enough to avoid hurting you. I couldn't bear to do that."

Hiro nodded awkwardly. "I suppose it's about time I got you home…"

_Not yet,_ Ayaka thought, _not yet… whatever I feel, I don't want us to part yet…_ And as she thought it, she began to realise she had a choice she would not have had before her marriage. For now at least she was still Uesugi Ayaka, Eiri's wife, and could do as she liked. It wasn't as if Eiri would care. She had told her family that she was going to Tokyo; letting them assume she was going to her husband without actually lying. It was wrong; but it was what she needed to do. And what she could do, at least until both families got wind of the divorce. The exhilarating feeling of new freedom, both actual and within her own mind, went a little way to soothe the aching of her broken heart.

"Perhaps we could have dinner," she suggested in what she hoped was a light tone, "and then you could help me find a hotel? I think I'm going to stay in Tokyo for a little while…"

**TBC: **The park seems to be a place for fateful encounters; this particular one will start Eiri on a path which might ultimately lead to a reckoning with his past…


	11. Chapter 11: Conversation

**CHAPTER 11: CONVERSATION** - The park seems to be a place for fateful encounters; this particular one will start Eiri on a path which might ultimately lead to a reckoning with his past…

* * *

He had begun without knowing he had begun – without knowing he was looking for someone, let alone who it was. He had just begun wandering, without consciously realising the significance of the places he was wandering _to._

He had told himself it was just a need to reacquaint himself with the city he thought of as home. He was back to stay; he acknowledged that with relief. He had not told Mika or Tohma of his decision; or the decision he had reached, quite amicably in the end, with Ayaka. For once husband and wife had found unity through shutting out the interference of others. They would tell their families when they were good and ready and not before.

He wandered the street he had once driven down only to have a soggy pink-haired brat leap out in front of him; then suddenly found himself on the road he had been living on when he had taken another man as his lover, and found his eyes wandering hungrily over every passer by.

Tokyo was a huge, populous city. It was completely ridiculous to think they would meet.

But a little nostalgic wander surely couldn't hurt…

Or could it?

For six years he had avoided nostalgia. Had avoided photographs. Had avoided memories. Tohma in particular seemed to like to tease him with recollections of their time in New York, perhaps hoping to reach the boy Eiri had been. Eiri had never allowed himself to be drawn in.

Now memories were everywhere. Memories of Shuichi. Memories… of Yuki. Images blurred and mixed in his dreams until he was not sure who belonged where. It made his head hurt. But this time he had come back to the centre of the disturbance instead of running away to safety. Running away would make no difference this time. What he had said to Mika and to Ayaka was true – it was too late for that.

Maybe it was even too late before he had opened his mouth to insult Shuichi's song. Maybe the sight of him, mulling over his lyrics, so innocent, so optimistic… so… enchanting... would have been enough.

It was too late to go back, of course. Even if Shuichi still cared for him – even if he might consider forgiving him – it was out of the question. The only good thing he had ever done for Shuichi was to leave him. The gods alone knew what sort of mess the kid's life would have been in now if Eiri hadn't thrown him over.

He ought to go home and finish that damn novel. He knew he was putting off writing the ending because he did not want to decide which ending to use. They were both clear enough in his head - one happy; one sad. Not that the sad ending was as sad as it might have been, though with a little work it could be his most gloomy so far. Part of the problem was that the novel had linked itself too closely to the turmoil in his mind. It almost felt as though to decide the ending would be to condemn himself – to force life to imitate art. He had no faith in the happy ending – yet he did not want to surrender to the sad one.

_Shuichi wouldn't hesitate. He'd tell me to go with happy one. But what the hell does he know about writing?_

_This is stupid. I must be going nuts. Go home and get on with your work, moron._

_Tokyo is full of Shuichi. If everything in New York might be Yuki, everything here is Shuichi. Yet I'm not afraid of it. I want to be within it._

Eiri looked around him.

The park was just as it had been the last time they had walked through it together. Shuichi liked to come here, just at this time of night, as if to relive their first meeting. Shyly he would slip his arm through Eiri's; Eiri would make a face but wouldn't shake him off. How many times had they done that? Probably only once or twice, when Eiri was restive after a day behind his computer and Shuichi was talking too much. He always became more quiescent in the park. If he was particularly well behaved on such nights, Eiri might even deign to kiss him. Shuichi's lips would be cold from the night air... but his mouth would be warm.

A bittersweet memory was almost forming into a pleasant little fantasy when Eiri caught sight of something and froze in his tracks.

A figure stood in the distance, cloaked in shadows.

Was he hallucinating? Was he finally going mad? Eiri felt his heart squeeze so painfully he thought it might actually be about to fail. Every muscle in his body grew tight. He closed his eyes and then opened them again.

Yes. There it was. A short, slender figure but quite definitely male. Eiri didn't have to see the face to know the eyes were fixed upon him.

_Shuichi._

Shuichi had known. Had come here because he knew Eiri was looking for him. Eiri felt a sudden surge of some emotion he could not identify, though it seemed to have elements of longing and of excitement. Love, perhaps? But then again, who the hell knew what that was supposed to feel like?

"Good evening, Eiri-kun!" The apparition of Shuichi spoke cheerfully to as it approached. "Or do I have to call you "Yuki-san" now?" It hesitated, as if considering the idea. "No, I don't think I like calling you that… yeah, that's right!" The apparition held up what looked like a stuffed rabbit. "Kumagoro says it's kind of creepy… so I'll just call you Eiri-kun, like I used to. Hey, Eiri-kun… did you see _Hit Stage _the other day?"

"…No…" Eiri whispered. "How – how the hell did you…"

"Oh well, it doesn't matter… come on, Eiri-kun… let's sit down for a minute." Eiri heard a soft, furtive chuckle. I've got a _secret_ to share…"

* * *

"Eiri-san!" There was genuine pleasure in Seguchi Tohma's turquoise eyes as he stood up to greet his brother in law. "It's good to see you… it seems so long since we've had lunch together…"

Eiri was about to make some mildly sarcastic reply when he realised that Tohma was right – they had not spent any time alone together since Eiri's marriage.

And, he noted, he had missed the older man's company. Tohma was one of the few people in his world who would refrain from judging him, yet was not afraid to tell him the truth. But more than that, he was the only person Eiri was still in contact with who had shared his time in New York – who remembered Kitazawa Yuki. Even if Tohma's opinion of Eiri's tutor could not be called unbiased, he at least remembered events more clearly than Eiri could – and had viewed them through the eyes of an adult, not an enamoured, hormonal adolescent.

As Tohma read the restaurant's wine list and asked him if he was ready to order, Eiri became aware of that same feeling of returning home which had touched him since he had first returned to Tokyo. He was only beginning to realise how much besides Shuichi he had lost when he had fled to Kyoto.

But this was not the time for pointless nostalgia. His last little trip down memory lane had landed him even deeper in hell than he already was, and the more he pondered the strange meeting which had ended it, the more he was beginning to wonder if he had just been welcomed home by the devil.

He ordered without thinking, waving away the waitress impatiently when she began chattering about the soup of the day. "Is it true?" he demanded of Tohma without preamble, "about Bad Luck? About Shuichi wanting to quit the band?"

Tohma looked genuinely alarmed. "Who told you about that?" he asked in a low whisper.

"A little bird."

Tohma's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "That little bird wasn't by any chance chewing on the ear of a stuffed pink bunny when he told you…?"

"I don't care if he was swinging naked from the trees," Eiri hissed, "I want to know if it's _true."_

Tohma frowned. For a moment he remained silent, carefully unfolding his napkin and spreading it out before him. "I regret to say that it is. And before you start railing at me, Eiri-san, it was entirely Shindou-san's decision."

Eiri regarded him with heavy scepticism. "That damned brat would sooner be castrated without anaesthetic than give up on Bad Luck."

Tohma continued to play with his napkin. "That might have been true once, Eiri-san, but a lot has changed."

"Don't bullshit me, _aniki," _Eiri growled, laying heavy contempt on the honorific he so rarely used. "I know him. I _know _him. Nothing could have changed him that much!"

"I grant that you know him better than I do as a person…" Tohma's tone was infinitely patient. "As… a lover. But I flatter myself _I_ know him better as a musician." When he finally met Eiri's gaze, his own seemed troubled. "As a matter of fact, I have developed a great deal of respect for Shindou-san in these last few months. Apart from a few… unfortunate moments, he has proved he can be a dedicated professional even under considerable pressure."

"You mean because after everything that happened to him he still didn't turn into a miserable, jaded fuckup like me?"

Tohma politely ignored that. "The problem is not with NG or with Bad Luck, Eiri-san… the problem is with Shindou-san himself. I believe," he continued softly, staring down at his hands, "he has lost faith in his music, and he knows that those working with him can see it. He is still a good enough vocalist… good enough, in the way that Aizawa-san is good enough. As things stand, Bad Luck will enjoy a reasonable amount of success for a few years. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't have gone ahead with the plans of K and Sakano-san for the band's national tour. They will do well until their fan-base outgrows them and the world forgets them. But that isn't what Shindou-san wants. If you claim to know him that well, you know that isn't what he wants. He's not prepared carry on when he can't give one-hundred per cent to his music and I respect him for that."

Eiri said nothing. He watched the waitress lay plates of steaming, aromatic food before them and felt his stomach heave. He gulped down the expensive wine she poured into his glass without tasting it, feeling it burn its way down. He knew he was only waiting for Tohma to say the wrong thing – to insist what was happening to Shuichi wasn't his fault and that given his current health problems he shouldn't worry uselessly over it – just so that he could let his temper loose and tear every excuse his brother in law offered for him into tiny shreds.

But Tohma knew it too, and he said nothing; merely exchanged polite small talk with the sycophantic manager who had bustled over to greet his "honoured" patrons and wax lyrical about how wonderful it was to have both Seguchi Tohma and Yuki Eiri in his humble restaurant again after so long.

"So," Tohma said when the man had finally gone, picking up his chopsticks and eyeing his food with pleasure, "how is Ayaka-san? Mika says she's in Tokyo. I have to admit I was surprised…" His smile was the epitome of angelic innocence. "Have you managed to work through your… problems?"

"In a way," Eiri answered, looking down into his wine glass. "I'm filing for divorce." He smirked. "I told her _she_ should do it - the gods know I've given her enough grounds – but she doesn't want to upset our families or see the Uesugi name dragged through the courts. Personally I don't give a flying fuck about the Uesugi name, so I'm doing it. Something simple like irreconcilable differences… I'll make sure she gets a generous settlement and she can keep the Uesugi name if she likes it that much."

"I… see," Tohma said slowly.

"You don't seem that surprised…"

Tohma gave an elegant shrug. "After what you told Mika-san about your reasons for marrying, I have to admit I didn't hold out much hope. I have to admit I'm a little shocked that you've acted so quickly…"

"Yeah…" Eiri took up his own chopsticks and began to pick unenthusiastically at his lunch. "It's not like me to do anything so decisive, is it? What I told Mika was the truth. I married Ayaka so I'd stop fucking up Shuichi's life, but all I've done is fuck up Ayaka's as well. She kept saying it was her fault," he recalled with a frown, "that she should have refused my proposal because she knew I was in love with Shuichi... but then again, I always did wonder if the girl was a little unbalanced. I mean, anyone who claims to be in love with me has to be mental, right? Just look at Shuichi…"

"Eiri-san…" Tohma frowned.

"There's something I want you to do for me. One last favour, for old time's sake." Eiri put down his chopsticks and pushed his plate aside, giving up all pretence of eating. "It's something I should have asked you to do almost a year ago."

"Eiri-san, if this is to do with Shindou-san or Bad Luck…"

"It isn't. It's about Ask." Eiri met Tohma's gaze squarely across the table, his voice dropping instinctively to whisper. "I want you to bury Aizawa Taki."

"_Eiri-san…!"_

"I don't care how you do it. I don't care if he's caught shooting up on coke with a couple of prostitutes; I don't care if he's accused of downloading kiddie porn or dressing up in women's clothes or spying for North Korea. Just bury him!"

"But – Eiri-san…"

"We owe Shuichi, Tohma. Me for breaking his heart and ruining his dreams; you for not dropping Ask the moment that fucker hurt him. I'm a coward and you're a mercenary, but we both owe him."

Tohma shook his head. "Eiri-san, for God's sake…"

"If you can't do that," Eiri pressed on relentlessly, glad Tohma couldn't see his clenched fists under the table, "then recommend me a good criminal lawyer or some tart who'll give an alibi for a few million yen. Because this time it will be premeditated murder and I'm no longer a minor."

He rose to his feet. "One more thing. I'm going away for a while and I don't want either you or Mika chasing after me. I mean it, Tohma. Try it and there's a good chance you'll never see me again. But wherever I am, you can bet I'll be watching the news." He was about to turn and go when he caught sight of Tohma's stricken expression and felt an unexpected twinge of compassion. "Thanks for lunch," he mumbled and made a quick exit.

* * *

"…_Hello…?"_

"Could I speak to Mizuki Kanna?"

"…_Yeah… hold on…. Kanna-chan… I think it's one of your writer fellows…"_

"…_Hello…? Mizuki Kanna speaking…"_

"Mizuki? It's me."

"…_Yuki-san! It's terribly early…"_

"… _Can't you tell him to at least call back when it's light…?"_

"_Shhh…! He'll hear you! Go back to sleep, I won't be long… What can I do for you, Yuki-san?"_

"Sorry about waking you up, but my plane leaves in four hours."

"_Plane…? Yuki-san… if you're planning one of your strategic withdrawals…"_

"Relax. The book's finished. By the time you've finished the corrections I should be back. At least… that's the plan."

"_Well… that is good news! So you managed to decide the ending after all?"_

"Sort of. I actually wrote two down – the happy one and the sad one. But right now I'd go with the sad one. It's more in keeping with my style… and it strikes me as rather more realistic. Those two could never make one another happy."

"_For a romance writer you're an incorrigible cynic, Yuki-san…"_

"You're the one who labels my stuff "romance," not me…"

"_Even so, ill sorted though your lovers seem to be at first, it does rather feel as though they were destined to meet…"_

"Yeah, well that's the mark of a good writer – hiding the art within the art…"

"…_And… somehow… that they're destined to be together…"_

"Enough of the destiny talk, Mizuki! You're starting to sound like my father! He always said that our destinies were predetermined by karma, and I've spent the best part of my life trying to prove him wrong!"

"…_All right… then may I ask where you're going so suddenly, Yuki-san?"_

"Hell, Kanna-san… I'm going to hell!"

"…_I… only asked…"_

"And I only answered. Oh by the way, I thought of a name for the book."

"…_Oh…?"_

"Yeah. I've decided to call it _Cursed."_

**TBC: – **It seems as though Shuichi is also due for a strange encounter in the park… or is he? Sadness replaces anger, but is that really an improvement?


	12. Chapter 12: Lyrics

**CHAPTER 12: LYRICS – **It seems as though Shuichi is also due for a strange encounter in the park… or is he? Sadness replaces anger, but is that really an improvement?

* * *

He found himself in the park. For a moment he was confused. He could not tremember going there. But then he looked down at the paper in his hand and remembered.

The lyrics to _Glaring Dream. _

Slowly Shuichi looked up from the words to the path in front of him, and saw a man standing silhouetted in the lamplight.

Of course. Shuichi knew what was to happen next. But if he knew, there was surely no need to hurry. He stared at the man just as he had that first night; and just as it had been that first night, the man took his breath away. But this time he held on as long as he could, greedily taking in every detail.

The next day, he was supposed to describe the man to Hiro as "way too cool" to be forgotten. That much was true – for Shuichi, Yuki Eiri had been the very essence of cool – his handsome face; his athletic figure; his poise, his height, his manner, his lazy but cultured drawl; right down to the way he smoked his cigarette and looked up from Shuichi's lyrics straight into his eyes. From then on, everything Yuki was, or did, or said, could be summed up as _cool._

But that word wasn't a word for a lyricist; even one who apparently really _did _have zero talent. And here and now, in this quiet moment which felt so unreal that it had to be a dream, Shuichi could describe the stranger before him as _beautiful, _with hair like the sun, eyes the colour of honey, features sculpted as if by the hand of a master, and skin as smooth and white as freshly fallen snow. He felt certain if this man would only smile at him he would fall at his feet and be his willing slave.

But the man regarded him with cool contempt, holding out Shuichi's lyrics which were now, inevitably, in his hand. "Are you the one who… wrote this?"

The deep bass voice sent ripples of pleasure through Shuichi's body, but he did not forget what he was supposed to do next. He knew his lines. He had memorised this conversation long ago. But he did not say the words. "Yeah," he heard himself reply, "yeah, but they're crap. I know they're crap; you don't have to say it again. It doesn't matter. I can't make them any better now, but that doesn't matter either. It's over, Yuki… it's all over now."

The man looked perplexed. Perhaps he was confused by the sudden change in the script. He glanced down again at the paper and then held it out to Shuichi once again. "No lyrics?"

The paper was blank.

"No music," Shuichi breathed.

"Bad luck," the man said. Shuichi stared at him. Was that a question or just a rather tasteless pun? In spite of himself he actually found a crooked smile tugging down his lips. "No music," he repeated with a shrug. It seemed to explain everything.

The man lowered his gaze, looking quite lost.

Shuichi sighed tiredly. "It's all right, Yuki… I'm not angry anymore. I was, for a long time… angry at Aizawa, angry at those men… angry at you most of all. I felt humiliated... and not just because of what they did. I thought I could cope with everything. That day in the car park, I thought I could even cope with the beating and the… rape. I mean, _you _weren't always exactly gentle with me! But it was nothing like it was with you. It hurt so _bad,_ and I felt so ashamed… I kept thinking of you, of my parents, of Maiko, of Hiro… of you all knowing what was being done to me… once or twice I really thought I'd die there… and the only thing I'd ever be remembered for was being found dead in some filthy car park… and you'd never know why…

"I kept telling myself it was all for you… that I'd let them do that to me to protect you… but maybe I was just too scared of what they'd do if I fought back… maybe I never really had a choice to make… I don't know anymore… all I know is that I was sure you'd be there when it was all over… I mean, I know you'd dumped me and everything but I didn't _really_ think it was over… Hiro said I'd just pissed you off a bit and if I said sorry it'd be all right…

"But like I said, I'm not angry anymore… I'm just… disappointed. I thought… I thought love was everything. If I loved you enough you'd stay with me, no matter what happened. Even if you never loved me, I thought my love for you would be enough… I never thought you'd just leave me behind without a word… I thought I was more to you than that. I thought _you_ were more than that. But I understand now…"

Shuichi drew in a deep breath, amazed by the sudden clarity in his own mind. Would it still be there when he woke? Would this new found wisdom be lost in a cloud of confusion once again?

"Before I met you," he continued at last, "I couldn't sing or write about what it was really like to be in love, so the music wasn't good enough. But now, with no love at all, there's no music at all. To hear music again, I have to learn to love someone else and I don't want to. I just don't _want_ to."

As Shuichi finally finished, the beautiful stranger looked up at him with eyes filled with inconsolable sadness – the sadness Shuichi had always sensed lying deep inside, underneath layer upon layer of anger and cynicism and smart talk.

"Oh _Yuki…"_ Shuichi went to him then, ready to take him in his arms. But when he reached him, all he found was empty space. When he looked down, however, he saw a paper lying trapped beneath his foot.

His lyrics. Just like the first time, Yuki had let them blow away.

But when Shuichi picked up the paper, he found it wasn't his lyrics at all. It was a note written in an unmistakable hand.

_Yuki's gone to New York._

"No," Shuichi gasped, "no, Yuki, come back here, to me! _This_ is where you belong!"

He looked down at the paper, turning it over in search of more information. There was only one word written on the back.

The one word Yuki always hated.

_Why?_

"Because I still _love _you, Yuki!" Shuichi answered helplessly.

When he looked down once more, he found it was not a note at all but an envelope he held, with his name written upon it. Shuichi glanced frantically about him, straining for one more glimpse of the man who had been with him only a moment before. But the park was utterly deserted. He took a deep breath and began to call out.

"_Yu – "_

He got no further. His throat constricted. When he tried once more, no sound came out.

It was _gone. _ His voice had gone. Yuki had taken his music and taken his voice and gone to New York without him.

With trembling hands, Shuichi tore open the envelope. He had just unfolded the letter within when he woke with a start, bathed in cold sweat.

* * *

Shuichi sat up, clutching his throat. Tentatively he sung a few notes. Then he relaxed. It had only been a dream. He hadn't lost his voice… and Yuki…

_Yuki's gone to New York._

The thought startled him. Why in the world should Yuki have gone to America? It was just a stupid dream. From what Ayaka had suggested, Yuki was probably right here in Tokyo. In fact, if Shuichi rang his mobile now…

Which he wouldn't do, because that would be completely stupid and Yuki was bound to have changed his number and what the hell would they say to each other now anyway? _Hey, Yuki, sorry to hear about your divorce… did you hear I'm quitting Bad Luck? Yeah, life's a real bitch, isn't it?_

He'd been having a lot of strange dreams lately_._ This one was surely nothing different. Hiro said it was due to stress and it was only natural. The other night he dreamed that he had dressed up as Ayaka and crashed Yuki's wedding, and then for some reason Yuki had pushed him into a pond. You couldn't get weirder than that, though it had made Hiro laugh. And yet the idea that Yuki had gone away still persisted.

There were times Shuichi actually looked forward to some of these strange dreams because Yuki was so often in them, saying and doing things Yuki would never have done. Compared to his dreams, life seemed so empty… so… hopeless.

Was there ever going to be a time when he was finally free of his love for the man who had hurt him so much? Would he ever want to be? What he had said in the dream was truer than any waking thought he had ever had. He did not want to let go. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Sakuma-san had understood how Shuichi felt. He was the only one who did. That day when Shuichi had watched Nittle Grasper perform and seen the gulf between his own talent and Ryuichi's open up before him, Sakuma-san had looked at him and understood. And had been the only one not to try to talk him round – to scold him or flatter him or try to bribe him. He understood that to be asked to sing when there was no music inside was utter torment. He didn't even ask why there was no music anymore – he didn't even seem surprised to hear it. It was as if he had already known.

It was Sakuma-san who had given him the courage to tell the others.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Not the upcoming tour. Not the money it would earn him. Not even the astonishing news splashed all over the Japanese media for the last few days about Aizawa Taki being caught at US customs with three kilos of heroin in his luggage. The last he had heard Ask's lead singer was going to be charged with trafficking, or possession with intent to supply, or something like that. The tabloids were full of speculation on Yakuza connections, blackmail or gambling debts. Women Aizawa had probably only ever winked at were shoving forward to tell stories of drug taking and kinky sex. NG had dropped Aizawa like a hot rock – Seguchi-san had already publicly distanced himself and his company from him and was refusing to aid him with legal representation.

Then again, the sales of Ask's last album had skyrocketed.

Shuichi had burst out laughing when he had read the news on the internet, so ludicrous did the whole thing seem. Then he sobered and looked across at Hiro who was sitting next to him. Of one mind, they had glanced across the room at their manager, who was chatting breezily to his wife and little son on the phone. Shuichi had suppressed a shudder.

"They're saying he might get five years," Hiro had noted the next day. "If he's lucky he'll be allowed to serve it over here."

"Yeah," Shuichi had answered dully.

"It's no less than he deserves, Shu-kun. It's probably more than he would have got if he'd been caught for what he did to you…"

Shuichi had nodded. Hiro was right, of course. And there was a certain relief in knowing some kind of justice had been served on that bastard. But it didn't really make Shuichi feel any better. It didn't change anything that had happened as a result of what Aizawa had done. Shuichi and Yuki were still separated and probably would be forever. Nothing was going to change that now; no matter how many times he dreamed otherwise.

* * *

"That was some weird dream, even so," Hiro noted as he handed Shuichi a coffee and the two of them sat down together on the nearest park bench. "No wonder you wanted to come here at this time of night…"

"Maybe I'm just going weird…" Shuichi sighed. "When I woke up, I got out the lyrics to that song… you know, the one he made fun of that evening? I don't think I've looked at them since… well, you know. Since he left. He was right all along… they were kind of crappy…"

"They weren't that bad, Shu-kun," Hiro chuckled softly. "Knowing Yuki-san, he probably just said that to get a rise out of you!"

"Maybe… but I could see what he meant." He did not add that the lyrics he had written for the song roughly titled _Glaring Dream _had made eerie reading – almost as if they had been written _about _that strange first meeting in the twilit park, not been the subject of an argument within it. "I mean, they weren't as bad as he said… but they didn't really say what I'd wanted them to say. Anyway, in the dream, I had this feeling I could fix them… that I knew what was missing… but when I woke up… it was no different. I still couldn't write. I couldn't even remember why I wrote them like that in the first place… it's like they belonged to another Shuichi… one I hardly recognise."

He gazed into the evening shadows. He had had to come here – insane as it was, the images of the dream of the night before would not leave him alone. But he was not sure he could face it by himself and Hiro, faithful as always, had understood. Even so, this park was not the park of his dreams. There was no sense of expectation here, no sudden clarity; only a vague loneliness as he recalled happier times with both Hiro and Yuki.

Shuichi took a sip of his coffee, swallowing the hot liquid slowly. "Yuki used to make great coffee," he observed irrelevantly.

"You still miss him, don't you?" Hiro's tone was gentle.

"Yeah." Shuichi felt a heavy weight settle in his heart. Now that I don't feel so angry with him, I think I miss him even more…"

"You know… now that his marriage is pretty much on the rocks…" Hiro ventured slowly, "there's nothing to stop you seeing him… or even just giving him a call… I have a feeling that's what Ayaka-chan thinks you should do…"

"Ayaka-chan's too forgiving for her own good…" Shuichi said with more force than he intended.

"She's just trying to make the best of things and move on…" Hiro countered with an edge to his tone.

Shuichi glanced at him, then bent his head and nodded. "Yeah, and she's managing it better than I am..."

_What I said in that dream is true. I'm not ready to let go. I tried to let go that afternoon in Yuki's bed, but I still haven't done it. And yet, if Yuki's marriage could fall apart so quickly… a marriage all of his family approved of… a relationship he'd never need to hide… what chance would we have even if we got back together?_

_Ayaka seemed to think her marriage failed because Yuki's heart… belonged to me. I wish I could believe that. But how could she know? How can I know? Most of the time I don't think even Yuki knew himself…_

"I guess it _is_ different for her," Hiro said in a more conciliatory tone. "I mean... for her, it really _is_ over... Yuki-san pretty much told her so. But for _you..."_

"Oh to hell with Yuki," Shuichi cried suddenly, "anyway, it seems to me he's not the only one keeping secrets…" He stole a sly glance at his friend. "You still haven't told me exactly what's going on with you and Ayaka-chan..."

He had never quite got used to calling her "Uesugi-san" or even "Ayaka-san", let alone "Yuki's wife" and now the divorce was pending he was even more confused. Besides, the old diminutive somehow served to remind him she was, in many ways, the same unworldly, amiable girl he and Hiro had rescued that night in the park.

Hiro stared at the ground for a long time. "I'm in love with her," he admitted quietly. "I think I fell in love with her the night we met… I just didn't want to admit it. It's not easy to admit your perfect girl is in love with another man…"

"But… what about…" Shuichi began to ask.

"We're not having an affair or anything," Hiro quickly insisted. "She just phoned me one day, needing someone to talk to when things weren't working out with Yuki-san. As to what'll happen next… now that it looks like her marriage is over…" Hiro had shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I wish I did…"

"Oh Hiro…" Shuichi sighed again, resting his head on Hiro's shoulder, "what a pair we are! A year ago all we had to worry about was making Bad Luck a success and convincing your parents you weren't better off in medical school! What the hell's gotten into us?"

"Must be something in the water," Hiro joked, and the two of them exchanged sheepish grins. "At any rate," he added, eyeing Shuichi shrewdly, "one good thing's come out of this… you've grown up at last! You're really not a brat anymore!"

"Yeah," Shuichi nodded with a twisted smile. "And I'm not some obnoxious little pseudo-Yuki, either!"

"_Obnoxious pseudo-Yuki!"_ Hiro echoed with a low whistle. "Those are pretty long words for you, Shu-kun!"

"Yeah, well I've been reading more lately. No, not _his _stuff… just other things on the same shelves… I reckon I've played the "ignorant and proud" card enough times, and some of these stories are really great when you get into them! Besides…" he added wistfully, "now I'm not going to be a chart-topping rock star I should think about some other career. I don't want to go back to washing dishes in a restaurant like I used to! D'you think I'd ever get into college…?"

Hiro shrugged, looking downcast. Shuichi could see being reminded of his intention to quit still made his friend unhappy, and when it came down to it, turning into a joke didn't help. They had tried talking about the future before, but Shuichi had had a sense they were both saying only what they thought the other wanted to hear. He reached up to put his arm around Hiro's shoulders.

"Whatever happens," he said softly, _"we'll_ still be best friends… right, Hiro?"

Hiro looked at him and grinned. "Right!"

**TBC: While Eiri returns to New York and begins to wonder if he should stay there, Shuichi increasingly finds that letting go is the easiest solution… but can he let go of Eiri?**


	13. Chapter 13: Drifter

**CHAPTER 13: DRIFTER **While Eiri returns to New York and begins to wonder if he should stay there, Shuichi increasingly finds that letting go is the easiest solution… but can he let go of Eiri?

**NOTE: **HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE! I am once again here saying sorry for being so slow to post the updates of this story - it is nothing to do with the story itself but purely pressure of time in other areas of my life! I hope you'll enjoy this alternative version of Eiri's trip to New York...

* * *

New York no longer shone with a warm golden light.

Perhaps it never had, for anyone but a naive sixteen year old Japanese boy tasting real freedom from his troubled home life the first time in his life. But then again, it didn't help that the skies over the city were blotted out with heavy, brooding dark clouds. The temperature was dropping rapidly and it had started to snow by the time he had set out on his wanderings.

As he had made his way back to his hotel room in the early hours of the morning the sky had cleared to a sharp, cold blue, so brilliant it was almost blinding. Seven years ago such a morning in the city Eiri had once determined to make his permanent home would have filled him with joy. Now all he felt was a weary sense of loss.

New York was just another city. Whatever he had felt seven years ago, he would never feel again.

And Kitazawa. _Yuki. _What was he? For so long he had hovered at the back of Eiri's thoughts – now as the longed-for friend of a desperately lonely teenager; now as the unobtainable object of desires he thought were his own jealously guarded secret; now as the sneering villain who knew it all but twisted it all around in the cruellest way; but never quite in focus. The current image in Eiri's mind, unwilling as he was to acknowledge it, was of a pathetic drunk taking out his frustration on a needy, lovesick brat for reasons he had taken with him to his grave.

Eiri slumped down on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling for a long time before finally closing his aching eyes. It had been almost a day since he had eaten and he had had nothing to sustain him during his long, cold wander through his past but endless cigarettes and two quick shots in a cheap downtown bar. His head was throbbing, his lungs felt as though they had been sandpapered and his fingers were numb from exposure to the frosty air.

He should go and have a shower and order some coffee and something to eat. It was by far the most sensible thing to do. But he found he could not move… could barely face opening his eyes.

What he had told Mizuki was true. He had been on a trip through hell.

But at least he remembered what that hell was like. And it was, after all, just a little bit better than _not_ knowing; than relying on nightmares, confused and guilt-ridden memories and the biased recollections of others.

He really _should _have a shower. He felt soiled. He felt tainted by his own memories. But he still could not move.

_I'm... in New York._

Absurdly, the reality of it hadn't struck him until now. He was in the USA. He had left Tokyo. _He had left Japan._ And totally on his own initiative this time; not with the help or the permission or even the suggestion of Tohma or anyone else. He had thought about starting again in a different country in a vague way over the years but had never given it serious thought. Like so many things, it had seemed too much like hard work.

_But I've done it. I've left._

_I don't have to go back._

The idea came to him in a blinding flash. It was true – his divorce was well underway; the solicitors could handle it and courier him any paperwork that needed signing. He could get funds transferred to him. He could communicate with Mizuki via email. He could tell his family his intentions by email too if he could not face phoning them.

Not that he seriously wanted to stay in New York, haunted as it was by happy memories turned sour and bitter memories made sharp and vivid by his recent travels. But now that he had made the break there was no reason to go home ever again.

_No reason? Like hell there's no reason, you cowardly son of a bitch. What got you to this point in the first place? WHO got you here?_

Eiri opened his eyes and sat up with a jerk, throwing off his snow-dampened woollen coat and shedding the rest of his clothes on the way to the shower. He turned the water to an almost scalding heat, revelling in how it stung his tender skin; letting it sterilise him. When he got out of the shower he called room service for a full American breakfast and then booked the first flight back to Tokyo he could find a first class seat on. There was no time to waste.

Only when he had wrapped himself in the fluffy complimentary hotel bathrobe and sat down on the bed with pancakes and coffee before him did he allow himself to think.

It _had _been hell. If he had had a gun with him when he had wandered into Kitazawa Yuki's old apartment he would certainly have blown his own brains out with it. Or… _almost_ certainly.

Even in the very worst moments, he had been conscious of not being completely alone – of having a sense… yes, a very real sense, of Shuichi being there with him. As his mind was forced open, real memories mixed with half-remembered dreams and he had half expected to hear Shuichi clattering up those decaying wooden steps; to see him burst into the room and demand to know why Eiri had left Japan without telling him.

Even if that was all a ridiculous fancy borne out of desperation, it had helped to sustain Eiri through his little pilgrimage through his lost memories and that was worth some sort of gratitude.

He ate his breakfast quickly, enjoying the strong, hot coffee most of all. When he had finished he called down to room service for an alarm call which would give him just enough time to get dressed and get a taxi to the airport. Then he threw back the covers, climbed into bed, and coaxed his weary and battered mind to some level of tranquillity with a fantasy of Shuichi performing before a full house of rabidly screaming fans.

At some point during the imaginary performance, all of Shuichi's clothes inexplicably fell off… but then again, Eiri had never claimed to be perfect.

* * *

Shuichi lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling of his new bedroom.

_Sometimes,_ he thought with a deep sigh as he clasped his hands behind his head, _I wish I could just lie here forever and dream… it's so much easier that way. It's just me and Yuki, most of the time… I don't have to worry about anyone else…_

The strange dreams persisted – surreal and disturbing little fragments which haunted him in his waking hours. Yuki was in nearly all of them; most commonly of late Shuichi found himself wandering around a city he had never been to, looking for his former lover in dark alleyways and derelict buildings. But occasionally he and Yuki were actually able to meet. Once they had even embraced – Yuki had been kind to him; his caresses had been tender and when Shuichi had looked into those hazel eyes he had seen love. They never said much in such encounters, but that didn't matter. As it had so often been in real life, being clasped in the arms of his beloved Yuki was enough to lull him into a state of serene bliss.

Shuichi let his eyes wander across the bedroom. It was a nice flat; his mother and Maiko had helped him choose it and he had to admit it suited him better than the old one. Moving had been a bit of a waste of time, really – he'd be on tour soon and after that he'd be out of work and probably not able keep up with the rent in such a nice area. But once he had given up what he had ironically termed his "pseudo-Yuki" lifestyle of drinking, clubbing and one night stands he had inevitably been forced to spend more time in the bedsit he had rented after his break with his lover and found it cluttered with unpleasant memories.

This new place had no memories. Only large, airy, quiet spaces where he could lie still and dream.

In the dreams, he didn't have to deal with the disappointment of the others around him. Every day during practise sessions he would see Sakano or Fujisaki or even K watching him warily, as if they wanted to say something but were afraid if they did he might quit before the tour had even started.

There were times where he almost wished he could. Times when he wished he could just wander away and never be found, and never see anyone associated with Yuki Eiri or Bad Luck or Nittle Grasper ever again.

It would be nice to get out of Japan for a while; at least until the name of Shindou Shuichi was suitably forgotten. Perhaps he could travel for a bit if he put enough money aside during the tour. Maybe he could even learn a bit of English between rehearsals and concerts in preparation for his travels. Maiko would know where to buy a good English course...

Like all plans for the future Shuichi had made this last while, the idea rose within his thoughts and then fell back and died. Later. He'd think about it later. Making plans was just too tiring.

So, indeed, was worrying about things. Like the fact that Hiro still seemed on edge. He had insisted on dropping Shuichi home every night for the past few weeks and tensed up whenever anyone walked into the recording studio or even when Shuichi's phone rang. Perhaps he was just worrying how Shuichi would cope when the press found out about Bad Luck, but it seemed like something more.

Once they had nearly run into Seguchi Mika getting out of her bright red sports car in the NG car park and Hiro had almost shoved Shuichi onto the back of his bike and rode off before she could catch sight of them. Of course he might just be worried about Mika finding out he had been seeing Ayaka... Hiro was in love, after all, and Shuichi knew only too well how crazy love could make someone...

Or, Hiro being Hiro, he might be worried about Mika blaming Shuichi for the break-up of her brother's marriage...

He supposed he'd have to talk to Hiro about it all... but that could wait until later as well.

And perhaps, in the end, there was no need for plans; no need for worries. Perhaps to let go was the answer after all... not to let go of his love for Yuki Eiri; but to let go of everything else. To leave it all behind and keep only his sweetest memories...

_These past few months I feel like I've been shedding skins like a snake in overdrive, _Shuichi mused; _I've shed my anger; I've shed the girls; now I'm getting ready to shed Bad Luck, and everything and everyone connected with it._

It was a measure of just how hard he was shedding his former life that he had actually even considered getting rid of his keyboard – the very one he had worked evenings washing dishes in a restaurant to pay for, before Bad Luck had been signed by NG. His mother had come across it while she was helping him pack for the move into the new flat, propped against the wall in one corner and covered in a thick layer of dust. Normally an emotional and highly vocal person, she had just glanced once at her son; then she had silently and carefully wiped off the dust and given it to her husband to carry down to their car.

For a moment Shuichi had felt the pain of a parent guilty of neglect. Then he had felt resentment. The last time he had played the keyboard, he had composed a song which everyone knew was dire. Perhaps, as he wasn't going to be a musician any longer, and apparently really did have zero talent, he should flog the stupid thing and buy himself a bike so he could make a living delivering takeaway. Finally, disgusted by his own self-pity, he had resolved to think about the problem some other time.

Yes; not thinking about things worked well.

_I feel good, in a weird sort of way..._ Shuichi observed dispassionately,_ I feel so much lighter now that I don't have to worry anymore... it scares me a little, but it does feel good..._

_In a way, I'm still just doing another version of Yuki... his life was paired down like this: work, home, food, sleep, money, sex. Family on occasion, but no friends I ever caught sight of. I wonder what – or who – hurt him so badly that he felt the way I do now?_

_I'll never know now. Never._

On a sudden impulse Shuichi picked up his mobile from the bedside table and opened the phone book. He should really get a new phone, he supposed; but for now, erasing numbers would be satisfying enough.

_Atsuko. _He could hardly remember her. He deleted her number without a second thought. _Buki. _He hesitated; then he deleted that one as well. _Hitomi. _Good riddance. Moeko... Madoka... Yuiko… it was hard to put faces to some of the names...

_Yuki – home._ Shuichi's breath caught. He supposed he should delete that one; Yuki surely wouldn't have kept the same phone number when he had moved out of his place. _Yuki – mob. _A small smile tugged at Shuichi's lips at the memory of how he had had to pester Yuki to give him that number – and the triumph he had felt when he finally found Yuki's weak spot – asking him just after they'd been making love.

He could call that number right now. Just to confirm Yuki hadn't gone to New York or anywhere else. Just to make sure he was all right.

Or he could delete it, and let go of Yuki at last.

Shuichi stared down at the phone's small screen for a long time. Then he switched it off and curled onto his side, clutching the phone close to his heart.

**TBC:** Hiro gets another surprise visitor – only this one is far less welcome than Ayaka…


	14. Chapter 14: Return

**CHAPTER 14: RETURN** Hiro gets another surprise visitor – only this one is far less welcome than Ayaka…

* * *

"_All right, all right, I'm COMING!"_ Nakano Hiro stumbled out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans and brushing the long hair out of his face as the door buzzer rang for a second time. "K-san, I swear if that's you I'm going to shoot you with your own damn gun! Do you have any idea what _time_ it is? Shit, it's barely light!"

He pulled the door open with a jerk and found himself staring open-mouthed in disbelief at the tall, blonde haired man standing behind it. "Holy _shit…"_

"It's nice to see you too, Nakano-san…" Yuki Eiri smirked wearily at him. "Sorry about the early alarm call… my timekeeping's a bit out of synch…"

"Man…" Hiro continued to study his best friend's former lover as he might an amoeba under the microscope in a biology class, not yet convinced what he was seeing was real. "You look like crap…"

Yuki looked more than anything else like a man who had just wandered away in shock from the scene of some horrific accident. He was wearing a heavy, dark woollen overcoat and the contrast made his pale skin look ghostly. His face was drawn and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; he looked as though he had lost weight.

Ayaka had told Hiro about her soon to be ex-husband's sudden departure from Tokyo. He had apparently told Tohma he was leaving - he hadn't said where, but Mika had come asking questions anyway, demanding to know if he had dropped any hints. Though Yuki's long-suffering sister had seemed beside herself with worry, Hiro had resolved that she would not be allowed to question Shuichi. Worrying about Yuki all over again was the last thing his friend needed.

"Yeah…" Yuki muttered, "well I'm jetlagged and I've just spent a very unpleasant month with…" he shook his head. "Forget it. Listen, are you going to let me in? That old lady next door already asked me if I was from the bailiffs…"

Hiro rolled his eyes. "The old girl's daft as a brush… she thinks any man under thirty not living with his parents must be on drugs or on the run from the law…" He was about to step away from the door to let Yuki in when he finally shook off his drowsiness and his stupefaction and eyed the writer suspiciously. "Just a minute… if this is about Ayaka-chan you can pull your mind right back out of the gutter! I know about the divorce proceedings but you're not using me as some sort of weapon against her. She needed a friend – someone to talk to. That's all!"

"...Ayaka...?" Yuki's golden brows rose in what seemed genuine surprise, as if the thought of his wife being involved with another man had never occurred to him. There was no jealousy in his expression, nor even any real interest; just mild surprise. Damn, but the guy was contemptible!

"Fuck you, Yuki-san," Hiro grunted with uncharacteristic brutality and was about to slam the door in the other man's face when Yuki stuck out his hand.

"It's about Shuichi," he said. "I know about Bad Luck. I…" he looked away, his expression pained. "Damn it, I might be able to help..."

Hiro continued to glare at him, feeling his heart beating fast. He had never been violent or hot tempered, but there was something about Yuki Eiri that was so provoking. Every time you started to like the guy just a little, Hiro reflected bitterly, he proved you were right to distrust him in the first place.

But if Yuki really could help… if there was something he could do for Shuichi…

Besides, it was surely better to deal with Yuki himself rather than let him loose on Shuichi before he knew what the writer had in mind…

"Come in," he said dully, gesturing towards the sitting-room before heading into the kitchen to brew some strong coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, they were facing each other across a tray of coffee and chocolate biscuits, Yuki having requested – quite humbly for him – something sweet to raise his blood sugar.

"Shu hasn't exactly been on top of the world since you dumped him," Hiro noted coldly, "but I think what really did it was that appearance on _Hit Stage_ with Nittle Grasper. K-san and Sakano-san were all in favour of it; they thought it would really get him going again…"

"Whose idea was it in the first place?" Yuki cut in suddenly.

Hiro shrugged. "K-san got us on the show, but I think it was Sakuma-san's idea for Nittle Grasper to be on there too…" He saw Yuki's eyes narrow slightly, but when he didn't say any more Hiro continued. "Shuichi was good. Better than he'd been in a while. But then Nittle Grasper performed and we all hung around to watch, and… I thought Shuichi would be bouncing off the walls with joy, but he just looked really… sad. I tried talking to him but he wouldn't tell me what was bothering him. Anyway, after the whole shoot was over I saw Sakuma-san talking to him. The next time I looked they were both gone.

"When Shuichi showed up for work the next morning, he told us he wanted to quit."

"Did he say why?"

Hiro shrugged disconsolately. "He said with him as our lead singer Bad Luck would never equal Nittle Grasper, let alone surpass them. He said if he had the choice, he'd sooner quit when Bad Luck were doing well than wait until the sales slumped and everyone had forgotten us. The others tried to talk him round, but nothing had any effect on him. He says he'll do the tour, but after that it's over."

He didn't feel much like relating the private conversation he and Shuichi had shared after the others had finally left them alone – when Shuichi had tried to insist Hiro and Fujisaki should continue without him. Telling Shuichi that was never going to happen was even harder than watching him give up. The guilt and the despair reflected in those deep purple-blue eyes was heartbreaking.

He had tried to think about the future in some vague way… he was still young enough to qualify for medical school if he retook his final exams. He probably wouldn't even need to revise all that hard. And it wasn't as if he and Shuichi would stop being friends… they had agreed as much, that night in the park…

But it was too soon for that sort of thing. Far too soon.

"So he's giving up because he doesn't want to be forgotten." Eiri's tone was harsh. "That's completely stupid."

"Stupid…" Hiro echoed dully, "…_stupid…" _ Then without warning even to himself, he exploded, leaping to his feet, hands on hips, bearing down on the other man. _"STUPID?! _Who the hell are _you _to call _him_ stupid? What do you know about what he's been through since you dumped him? Do you even have a clue what it means to him to give up on Bad Luck like this? Do you have _any idea?"_

"No," Yuki answered very quietly, "no… I don't. I don't understand anything about Shindou Shuichi…"

Somehow, Yuki's lost expression only drove Hiro's anger to new heights. "No," he spat, "no, you don't, because you never bothered to find out! You know, Yuki-san," he went on scornfully, "you really had me going for a while there! When you went in to bat for Shuichi like that, and you even got the film back… and then the next day, when you called me and told me to bring his stuff over to your place… You nearly had me apologising to you! I really began to think that underneath all the bullshit banter there was a genuinely decent guy! Shuichi always believed that and so did Ayaka! And I'd trust their character judgement over yours any day! But they were wrong, weren't they? Underneath the bullshit there's just _more _bullshit, isn't there? Nothing matters to you but _you!_

"I mean, what _is _it with you?" he demanded when Yuki continued to stare vacantly into his coffee cup, "why are you so cruel to people who love you? You dump Shuichi just because he gets raped protecting your worthless reputation, then you marry Ayaka-chan just to get away from the mess you left behind! And then you run away from _her! _You don't even have the decency to pretend to either of them that you did it for any other reason! What kind of a man _are_ you?!"

Eiri suddenly blinked, as if hearing Hiro's words for the first time. "Is that what he thinks…?"

"– _Huh - ?"_

"Shuichi. Is that why he thinks I left him?"

Hiro stared at him, breathing hard, feeling some of his fury dissipate at last. "What else was he supposed to think, Yuki-san? You left him and ran off to get married without a word of explanation just when he was his absolute lowest ebb – when he needed you more than anything! You obviously weren't doing it because you'd suddenly fallen in love with Ayaka or because you wanted to do your family duty – everything you've done since has proved that!

"He _loved _you, Yuki-san! He loved you and he thought you loved him too… even in your own weird way…"

"I never said…" Yuki lowered his eyes, his voice dropping to a thin, dry whisper. "I never said that…"

"I know, but come on!" Hiro cried impatiently, "was he so wrong to think that? To at least _hope_ that? I mean, I know Shuichi's imagination can be pretty vivid, and if he wants something enough he'll find a way to convince himself he'll get it, and I know your reputation when it comes to sex… _and_ I guess Shuichi's cute enough if you bat for the boy's team as well… but are you seriously going to tell me you'd let someone like him into your life just for a bit of fun? _You?_ No, I saw the look in your eyes when I told you what Aizawa had done to him… you can't tell me you didn't care!"

Yuki's expression was unreadable. Only the faintest creasing of his brow suggested he was taking in Hiro's words. "Even… even if that was all true… that's no reason to give up his music…"

"Don't you get it?" Hiro sat back down, gazing across at his guest with a mixture of pity and disgust. "He _still_ loves you! Even now! _That's the whole point!"_

"But he… has a girlfriend… I _saw…"_

"He's _had _girlfriends, yeah…" Hiro shook his head. "Just like _you've_ had girlfriends – even while you were married to Ayaka-chan! You of all people should know how much that means!"

For a long time Yuki was silent. Then he rose to his feet, picking up his coat and pulling it on. For a moment Hiro really thought the man would leave without another word, but just as he was reaching to open the front door Yuki suddenly turned back. "When d'you leave Tokyo?"

"– What - ?"

"On your tour."

"…Next week," Hiro admitted, automatically rhyming off their schedule. "We'll play three nights in Tokyo before we go north. We come back here in a month for a break and a few more gigs, and then we go south."

Yuki nodded. Then he pulled open the door. "Good luck," he said, and was gone.

* * *

**TBC:** It looks as though the end of Bad Luck is nigh, and nothing Shuichi's friends or bandmates can say will change that. But maybe an email can…


	15. Chapter 15: Email

**CHAPTER 15: EMAIL: **It looks as though the end of Bad Luck is nigh, and nothing Shuichi's friends or bandmates can say will change that. But maybe an email can…

**NOTE: **For me the relationship between Eiri and Yuki (and to an extent Tohma) was never adequately explained to my satisfaction - Eiri blamed himself, especially in the manga, and Tohma's attitude, especially in the manga, seemed rather ambivalent. Did Ms Murakami deliberately leave it cryptic? Or had she simply not worked it out herself? Call me an old cynic, or a harsh critic, but I might lean toward the latter... but what the heck, it's Christmas and I'll be nice. Regardless, this is _my_ take on the dynamics of the whole thing!

One again, happy christmas, and if I don't post before then, a truly joyful and prosperous new year to all of you with much love from your grateful friend Moon71!

* * *

"Shindou-san…?"

The voice was soft, timid – almost childlike. Shuichi looked up, half expecting it to be some cunning fan-girl who had somehow managed to slip through K's security net and find her way backstage. Astonishingly, though, it was Fujisaki Suguru who stood blinking nervously in the doorway.

"Relax, Fujisaki-kun," Shuichi said wearily, turning back to the dressing-room mirror, "as you can see, I haven't run away – I'm dressed and ready to go out there."

The boy looked down at the floor. "Shindou-san, I wanted to talk to you about Bad Luck."

Shuichi could not suppress a small stab of pain. "Man, do you even pause for breath? Don't tell me you've found someone to replace me already?"

"No!" Fujisaki sounded almost indignant. "I wanted to…" Shuichi heard him take a deep breath. "Look, I know you don't like me much, Shindou-san, but you have to admit we work well together. And I want you to reconsider your decision to quit."

Shuichi looked down at his hairbrush, feeling a sudden wave of regret. "I like you okay, Suguru-kun," he said softly. "But I'm not changing your mind."

"Bad Luck won't be Bad Luck without you!" Fujisaki blurted the words out as if they were choking him.

Shuichi turned to him in genuine surprise, moved more than he cared to admit as he looked around and saw his keyboard player turning bright pink with embarrassment. It had never been easy for them to say nice things about each other… now that all seemed so childish; so wasteful. Just as every argument he had had with Yuki now seemed time carelessly thrown away, now that Bad Luck was soon to be consigned to his past, Shuichi had begun more and more to regret times he had been too busy being a brat; arguing and protesting and resisting change he knew was for the best.

Too late. It was all too late.

"You and Hiro'll manage," he told Fujisaki quietly, "or even if…" he swallowed hard. "If Hiro packs it in too, you know you'll do great no matter who you form a band with!"

Fujisaki stared so hard at him then, his eyes burning with such dark fire, that Shuichi thought that precocious, self-possessed youth might actually start to cry. But then he seemed to recover himself. "I thought you cared about Bad Luck more than anything else, Shindou-san," he said coldly, turning to go. "I guess I was wrong."

"Suguru –!" Shuichi called, but Fujisaki went out without a backward glance.

Alone once again, Shuichi sank his head into his hands. _"Damn…" _he whispered. He wanted to be angry – the kid was an idiot, coming out with something like that just before they were due to go on stage! But he couldn't. Fujisaki had every right to feel betrayed, and when it came down to it, what consideration had Shuichi ever given to his feelings anyway? He had just made his decision and relied on Hiro's understanding of his inner turmoil. But Fujisaki had given just as much to Bad Luck as Hiro had – in many ways, a lot more.

Shuichi glanced over to the laptop he had brought with him. He ought to get rid of it – all he ever seemed to do was search the net for ridiculous celebrity gossip which ultimately just left him feeling depressed. No doubt by now news of Yuki's divorce would be spreading – it probably wouldn't supplant the stuff about Aizawa Taki but it would certainly get the women on the alert all over again. Right now one of them was already busy selling her story about how she was the "other woman" in "Yuki-san's" life, and, of course, his real true love.

Without knowing quite why, Shuichi switched it on and waited for the wireless network to connect. There might, he told himself, be an email from Maiko, wishing him luck. He would like that. He'd rather not hear anything from any of the girls he had stopped seeing, but some of them didn't seem to understand what "good-bye" meant. Sometimes he still thought about Buki. She was a nice girl. It would have been nice to be friends with her. But it seemed as though Buki's similarity to Yuki went quite a bit deeper than the rhyming of their names inasmuch as she apparently didn't believe in being "just friends" with a member of the opposite sex.

He scanned down the list. Maiko. Good. Maiko's friend Keiko, probably thanking him for the VIP tickets to the show tonight. Fair enough. Hitomi, probably demanding to know why Shuichi hadn't sent _her _any tickets, VIP or not. Oh well. And…

_Yuki Eiri._

Shuichi stared at the name in disbelief. It wasn't possible. It just wasn't _possible._ Someone had to be playing a joke on him. After all, anyone could set up an account under that name; it didn't have to mean anything. But when he checked the email address, he recognised it at once _– _the one Yuki always used to email Mizuki and deal with his publishers. The only one he knew for a fact that Yuki actually possessed.

Shuichi continued to gaze stupidly at it for a long time. He had to go on stage in one hour. This was not the time to read something from Yuki, whatever in the world it could possibly be. What if it was something devastating? Unbearable?

_Yuki's gone to New York…_

That lingering memory of that strange dream suddenly loomed nightmarishly large in Shuichi's mind. _No. No, that's not what I want. Even if we can't be together, I don't want him to leave. I want… I want…_

Without another thought, Shuichi opened the email and read the first few lines.

_Dear Shuichi_

_Yes, it really is me._

_I suppose you'll think I have no business knowing your email address, let alone writing to you like this, and I wouldn't blame you if you just hit "delete" without reading this. But if you're still enough of the Shuichi I remember, you'll give this a fair hearing. _

_Let's cut to the chase. Yuki Eiri, as you know, was never one to waste time on small talk. I know you're planning to give up on Bad Luck. Maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, but if it is in any way my fault, I would like to help. This might come as a great shock to you, but for once I'm being completely honest with you. Enjoy it._

_People who have better claim to know how you're feeling at the moment than I do have told me that you believe that I left you and married Usami Ayaka because I no longer wanted you after you had been assaulted. This isn't true. I left for two reasons. The same two reasons, more or less, why I kicked you out of my place the day before it happened. One was simply that I was scared. I didn't like what you were doing to me. The other reason was that I was afraid that our relationship wasn't safe for either of us._

_I don't suppose any of this makes the slightest sense to you, so I'll try to explain. You'll no doubt be asking by the end of this why I didn't tell you all of this nearly a year ago, and save us both a lot of pain. So I'll tell you why now, so that you're not distracted. I didn't tell you partly because I didn't want you to get too close to me, partly because I had no idea how you'd react, and partly because you would have asked lots of damn fool questions that I couldn't answer because I couldn't remember. _

_When I met you, I started to remember things I had forgotten for six years. Deliberately forgotten, I think. I don't know how you managed to trigger all this in me, but I think it was initially just because you reminded me so much of myself. I know this is hard to believe… but then again maybe it won't be as hard for you as all that. You saw something in me no-one else could see. You seemed to have seen the boy I once was._

_I was more like you than you know. I was a lot quieter and more timid than you've probably ever been, but I was optimistic, friendly, creative, sensitive and affectionate – at least that's how my sister would have described me. Unfortunately, with my light coloured hair and eyes and my fundamental naïveté I was the perfect target for abuse from the local children in Kyoto. Even my own parents weren't happy with the way I'd turned out. Suffice it to say, I didn't have a happy childhood and by the time I hit puberty I had real problems._

_Then Seguchi Tohma entered my life. He began courting Mika. I use the word "courting" deliberately – it was a slow process because he was in the middle of setting up NG records and Nittle Grasper was at the height of it's fame, and as my mother passed away a year after Tatsuha was born, my sister had taken up the mantle of mother, looking after not just her brothers but our father as well. When Tohma had to go to New York for a while, I leapt at the chance of going with him and Mika managed to convince Father that the change would do me good._

_I thought Tohma was the best thing that had ever happened to me. He was like a father and an elder brother… sometimes he was even like a mother. Going to New York seemed like a dream come true – we lived in a big, luxurious flat, I got to go all sorts of interesting places, I didn't stand out in a crowd, I had the perfect opportunity to learn English and best of all I didn't have to go to school. Tohma hired me my own tutor. Kitazawa Yuki._

_Yes, that's right. Yuki. The name is no coincidence. Yuki became my tutor when I was fifteen. He taught me English as well as the other usual subjects. He looked after me when Tohma was working. He encouraged my writing and broadened my horizons almost exponentially. He made me feel special – for all the right reasons. I adored him._

_A year later, he was dead. _

_I killed him. Along with two other men. That, Shuichi, is the truth about my dark and mysterious past. I'm a murderer, three times over._

_But of course you won't want me to stop there. You'll want to know why. That, like I said, is one of the reasons I couldn't tell you this before. I couldn't have told you before, even if I had wanted to. But I can tell you now. I remember nearly everything now._

_As I said, I adored Yuki. Yes, I know, you want me to be clearer about that. Was I in love with him? I honestly don't know. The boy that I had been then was so innocent he wouldn't have understood what real love was. The man I became would deny love existed outside people's deluded minds. I was young, lonely, and desperate for approval, especially from older men. I'm sure you've guessed even as far back as our third… or was it fourth…? little row that my relationship with my own father has never exactly been a bed of roses. I was also a hormonal adolescent. Yuki was handsome, charming and articulate. And so very clever._

_The memories that I held for years were nearly all of how kind Yuki was to me, and how I had repaid his kindness with murder. I couldn't remember much about the circumstances leading up to the night I killed him, and so I could never make sense of why I did it. But I had my suspicions..._

_At any rate, things between Yuki and I got more intense until Tohma got suspicious and started asking questions and eventually sent Yuki away from me. I was devastated. All I knew was that the two men who had brought light into my world were at odds, and it had to be my fault. Tohma kept insisting I wasn't to see Yuki anymore. When I tried to argue with him he looked so unhappy, insisting it was his fault, that I was afraid to ask him anything else. _

_But I couldn't bear to be without Yuki, and it wasn't that difficult for me to make contact with him again. We talked on the phone. Once or twice we met up. I could see Yuki looking at me oddly, as if he was angry with me, and it tore me apart. I could see he didn't like me mentioning Tohma and gradually, in this way he had, he let me know that it was Tohma's fault we couldn't be together. He suggested, without ever saying it aloud, that Tohma was jealous of our friendship and was plotting against him._

_Things seem so much more obvious when you view things through the eyes of an adult. Now it would have been clear to me that things were not good with Yuki – that he had been drinking and was seriously agitated about something. That Tohma wasn't angry or jealous – he was worried; even frightened for me. There was talk of sending me back to Japan – but I got so upset every time he or Mika mentioned it that they kept putting it off._

_Finally they couldn't put it off any longer. Mika demanded Tohma bring me home. I was heartbroken. So when Yuki called me and told me to sneak out at night and visit him, I leapt at the chance. I suppose I was pretty stupid for a sixteen year old, but I honestly thought we would go away together and live happily ever after. _

_That was the night it happened._

In the most shockingly dispassionate terms, Yuki then described what had happened to him when he had arrived at Kitazawa's flat, including his brutalisation at the hands of one of the men to whom his tutor had "sold" him for $10.00. And how, when the other man had stepped forward to take his turn, the gun stuffed into his belt had suddenly clattered to the floor between them.

_I remember moving like lightning. In a second the revolver was in my hands. It was cold and heavy and it frightened me. I'd never seen a real gun before, let alone held one. But then I looked up and saw the consternation turning to fear in the eyes of the men staring down at me and I clutched at the thing like a lifeline._

_Suddenly the man who had dropped it gave a derisive laugh. I still remember what he said, perhaps because with his words he signed his own death warrant. And his friend's. And Yuki's. With those words they died, and Yuki Eiri was born._

"_Hey, don't worry," he said. "The safety's on. D'you think I'd want to accidentally shoot my own balls off?"_

_Not much of an epitaph, was it?_

_By some instinct – or some logic – where from I don't know – I found what I knew had to be the safety catch, clicked it off, pointed the gun at it's owner and squeezed the trigger. _

_I don't know how I managed to aim so accurately. I don't know how many times I fired. All I know is that suddenly both those revolting men were lying on the ground and they weren't moving and it was over and they couldn't hurt me anymore._

_Then I turned to face Yuki._

_For a good minute I saw clear, absolute terror in his eyes. He backed away from me. He was still drunk and he had trouble keeping his balance. He looked so… pathetic, like the school bully who realises he's picked on the wrong kid and is about to get back with interest all he's been paying out. And for the first time in our relationship, I felt a surge of power. I felt as though I was in control. As if I had somehow gained wisdom well beyond my years, all I felt for Yuki then was contempt._

_Consider yourself privileged, kid – you're about to hear something nobody else knows, not even Seguchi. Not even my psychiatrist, yet. (And yes, you did read that right, I see a shrink. After all I've just told you, are you really that surprised?) The truth is, even I didn't know this myself until very recently._

_Yuki might have survived if he'd just kept silent. But as always he thought he knew me better than I knew myself. He started trying to talk me down. Started saying that it had all been a silly game, and he was sorry, but it was all over now, so I should just give him that nasty old gun and he'd take me home and we'd say no more about it. He knew I loved my Sensei. He knew I wouldn't want to hurt him._

_I couldn't believe it. He was talking to me like I was a five year old. Even now he was still laughing at me. I remember lowering the gun, just to see what he would do. And then I saw him smile._

_For years I couldn't remember why I shot Yuki. I told myself it was just the fear and the panic – that I shot blindly at anyone I could. But there was always this sense not just of guilt, but of fear. Now I can remember why._

_I think I might actually have pulled the trigger just to wipe that smile off his face._

_All I know is that I shot him because I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him not just for what he'd done that night, but for all the lies I'd believed and all the laughing he must have done behind my back. I wanted to kill him for humiliating me._

Yuki then described – in not enough detail to satisfy Shuichi's hunger for information on all those missing years – how Tohma had managed to get him home to Japan without charges being pressed, and how he had gradually struggled out of a terrible depression to start upon his career as a novelist. _And so Yuki Eiri was born, _Yuki wrote. Shuichi could almost hear the irony in his voice and see the smirk upon his lips. Though he longed to skim ahead for more, he forced himself to read on, line by line.

_After all that, it won't surprise you that I was wary of any relationship that went beyond sex. I simplified my world. I managed without friends. Many women tried to get beyond my barriers but they all failed. But you… you wouldn't take no for an answer. For a while I thought that might be a good thing. As I'm being so honest here, I'll admit that I liked you from the moment I saw you. I wanted you – you must surely have guessed that by now – but it was never just sex. You had so much spirit, so much love for life, so much hope. And you were so forgiving, even of me and my lousy moods. You just kept coming back. I hated it, but I also liked it. Wanted it. But then the alarm bells started going off in my head._

_It was when the gossip first started – thanks to that bastard Aizawa and your stupid "Yuki is mine!" moment - that I began to worry. I didn't want either of us to get "outed", that's true, but there was more to it than that. You didn't seen to realise what sort of danger you were in – how the scandal could damage your career before it even got underway – and I knew if I tried to explain it you'd protest that you didn't care. Very romantic, but not very realistic. _

_But far more than that, I began to see how things were going. We were becoming a "couple." And not only was I not ready for that – I didn't trust myself not to ruin your life the way I'd ruined my own, and Yuki's. I'd thought I was in love with Yuki, and I'd still killed him. Think about it. I honestly believed you'd be better off with someone else – someone who could love you and tell you they loved you._

_After what happened with Aizawa, the memories really began to return. I remembered how it felt to be mad enough to kill. What happened to you was my fault. You went through it to protect me. Because of me, you'd gone through the same thing I'd gone through myself. I'd cursed you with my own bad fortune. It seemed as though the gods were punishing me through you. But of course it was more than that, as you probably realise now. It was just too much for me to see you go through that. It brought back too many memories all at once. I really began to remember._

_I wasn't used to caring for someone. I'm still not used to it. It came naturally to me once, when I was young, but now everything that I became after New York fights against it. I did think that getting away from you would keep us both safe – you from my murderous ideas of love; me from your insidious influence. But it seems as though it was too late for both of us. For me, the awakening process didn't stop when I left you. It got worse. I remembered more and more. Finally I returned to New York… to the place it had all happened._

Shuichi looked up from the computer in shock, feeling his head begin to swim. _"Yuki's gone to New York…" _he whispered aloud, hardly able to believe what he was reading. How had he possibly known _that?_

All at once, a wave of fear passed over him. _There's no way I could have known that. Maybe this is just another dream. Maybe any minute now I'm going to wake up and find out this email never existed. _But then he pushed the thought away. He was wide awake. Whatever this strange coincidence meant, it was not a dream this time. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to relax and read on.

_It was like walking into hell. Memories were everywhere. You'll excuse me for not going into more detail. But I did, finally, remember. _

_So much for what I remember, and what I think. You don't have to be a genius to figure out that there are gaps in this little story. If it was one of my novels Mizuki would have it pulped. The truth is that there are still two versions of events – mine and Tohma's - the latter of which fits in better with what my shrink believes. _

_I have always believed that what happened was my fault. That I unwittingly led Yuki astray. That the suffocating intensity of my love for him, and my refusal to let go even when Tohma told me to, backed him into a corner until he had no choice but to turn on me._

_Tohma's version of course blames Yuki. He says he became suspicious for a number of reasons and started asking about Yuki's past in Japan. He was Japanese American but he had spent time working in Japan. Tohma found out he'd worked at a very exclusive boy's boarding school and got the sack for playing two of the senior boys off against one another. The school only found out when one – quite literally – tried to kill the other. The school sacked him, but to save their reputation they agreed to hush things up and give good references if Yuki went back to the US._

_Tohma doesn't seem to think there was anything much sexual in it and I agree. Yuki was downright weird when it came to sex. I made one or two clumsy passes at him in the heat of my little obsession – I barely knew what I was doing, but he never made anything of it. That evening in his apartment, I thought he might actually do something – he was drunk and acting weird and I was frightened, so it was hard to know if he was serious. He mocked my feelings for him, insisting he'd seen the way I looked at him and knew what I wanted. But when those two men turned up, his exact words were "after you." _

_Charming, I know. So what was it with him? Repressed queer, maybe? Arch-voyeur? I don't know. Maybe he just enjoyed the power. He was certainly fond of mind-games; and damned good at them too. Perhaps it really was just as he said – a game that got out of control._

_Now you know as much as I do. And so we come to the end, where I'm supposed to write loads of self-sacrificial bullshit about how you're too good for me and you're better off without me and how I hope you can find someone who will love you the way you should be loved. But I'm not going to say all of that. It seems to me I've tried that and all I've done is succeeded in making a lot of people miserable, myself included, and ended up more or less back where I started. So I'm not going to tell you what to do. There'd be no point anyway – you'll do what you want to do, not what I or anyone else thinks is best. That's your nature, and I don't imagine you'll ever change._

_You probably already know my marriage to Ayaka is over. The only good thing that ever came of that is that I think she now understands that it's better to have loved and lost than to be married to a jerk like me. Perhaps, after a year, you've come to the same conclusion. If that's true – or if this letter alone helps you to find your way back to the path I think you were on before I got in the way and you don't want to go back for me, that's fine. I won't like it, but I'll learn to accept it, and I'll always wish you well. _

_What happens next is up to you. I know life with me wasn't exactly perfect before I left you. I can't guarantee it will be any better if you take me back, for all that I do finally seem to have made some progress towards coming to terms with my past. I've accepted something I think you've known all along - that I'm still me, the same boy who was born in Kyoto; the same boy who went to New York. After all this time, I've finally figured out that the one person I can't run away from is myself, so I'm done with running away. _

_That, really, is all I want you to know - that whatever you decide, I'm not going anywhere. Tokyo is my home, now and for the foreseeable future. And who knows…? Maybe we'll run into each other again in the park one night. Only this time, instead of insulting your lyrics, I might just buy you a cup of coffee._

_Good luck with your concert. Sing your heart out, Shu-chan,_

_You damned brat._

_Uesugi Eiri_

By the time Shuichi reached the end of the letter, his heart was thumping at a rapid pace and he was breathing so hard he thought he actually might start to hyperventilate. When he put a hand to his face he found it damp with perspiration.

He stood up, sat down again, stood up again and then began to pace across the floor.

It was too much to take in. It was too unbelievable. He did not know what to feel. It was incredible. It was… horrible.

It was beyond anything he might ever have imagined, and yet it made a creepy sort of sense.

Shuichi sat down at the computer once more. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he read the whole thing again, from start to finish.

Only the second time did he really take in just what Yuki was trying to say to him. He wasn't going away. He wasn't writing to say good-bye.

It actually sounded as though he was, in his reticent, ironic way, asking for a second chance.

_It wasn't what I thought. It wasn't because of the rape. Only it _was… _but not in the way I thought._

_I can't believe it. I can't believe he went through that too._

And then, all at once, the full reality of everything Yuki had just confessed to him struck Shuichi like a tidal wave.

Maybe this was all old news to Yuki. Maybe he didn't care anymore. He had taken Kitazawa Yuki's name. Maybe he had intended that as some sort of memorial – as a peace offering to the dead. Maybe that was a sign he had come to terms with what he had done – and what been done to him…

But no. No. Yuki hadn't come to terms with this. Yuki hadn't been happy these last few years. The words he had written said as much. And Ayaka _had_ been right after all; that had been a part of the man's attraction for both of them, for all it had been far less conscious on Shuichi's part. Like Ayaka, Shuichi had sensed the unhappiness in Eiri, and, like Ayaka, he _had_ wanted to bring a smile to that handsome face and know that smile was for him… and because of him.

In spite of all the information in the letter, a thousand new questions began buzzing through Shuichi's mind. How had Yuki brought himself to confess all this? And why? Was it _really_ to save Bad Luck? Or to save Shuichi?

_Maybe he just feels guilty, _Shuichi thought stubbornly. _Sometimes I think I imagined every nice thing Yuki ever did or said… or read more into it than was ever there… back when I was with him I didn't think of myself as… sexually attractive… but all those girls I've been with… they didn't want me because they felt sorry for me… or cared about me that much…_

But no. That didn't make sense either. No matter how bitter he had felt over this past year, Shuichi knew Yuki's attraction to him, whatever it really was, was never pure lust. Lust didn't last, least of all for someone as promiscuous as Yuki Eiri. It either faded or deepened into something more.

_Amazing how much I've learned about relationships this last year, _Shuichi noted with a small smirk. _Maybe it hasn't all been for nothing…_

And there had been those times… infrequent perhaps, and too quickly over, but memorable never the less… sitting in front of the television… eating dinner… sitting beside Yuki while he was working… the occasional evening stroll through the park…

An arm slipped around his waist for no reason… gentle fingers ruffling through his hair… a kiss that was not a preamble to sex…

An apology, when one was not expected… forgiveness, when Shuichi had thought for sure he had blown it…

Shuichi looked at the email once more.

_Why has he finally confided in me? Why, after so long?_

_Is it just_… … possible_…_ _that_ _Yuki… loves me…?_

It was too much. It was all just… too much.

For the first time in nearly a year, Shindou Shuichi burst into tears, crying so hard he could hardly catch his breath.

He cried for many things – for all that he had been though these long months; for his broken heart, and for the relief that it might at last be allowed to heal; for all that Yuki – Eiri – had suffered at such a tender age and for the reality that if he had not suffered so, if everything that had happened to him had not brought him to that meeting in the park, he and Shuichi might never have met.

_And if I hadn't gone through the same thing…_ Shuichi thought as he wept, _would he ever have trusted me enough to tell me the truth?_

_Whatever he's done to me – whatever pain he's caused me… it must have taken incredible courage for him to tell me all of this, never mind send it in an email! But what should I do? How should I respond? What can I say to him?_

All at once, Shuichi sprang to his feet, wiping his eyes and swallowing the last of his tears.

_Amidst a noisy crowd of people, the murmured words melt away, scattered at my feet…_ _I wander aimlessly…_

Yes. That was it. That was _it. _Shuichi fumbled through his belongings, snatching up his writing pad and beginning to scribble furiously. That meeting in the park, where it all began. All events in their two lives led to that moment and all events which had followed were the result.

_I awake and you are there. _

Awake, yes. He was finally beginning to wake from a long and restless sleep.

_A shimmering vision, a faint silhouette who guides me…_

Yuki was there. Yuki had always been there. Yuki had never gone away at all.

* * *

"Shindou-kun! Shindou-kun, open the door, I _beg _of you! Whatever's wrong, we can talk about it, but _please, please _don't do anything rash!"

"Shuichi-kun, damn it, you're due on stage in three minutes! If you don't come out of there right now I'm going to shoot the damn lock off and carry you out there even if you're stark naked! I'm going to count to five! _One! Two! Three! Four – "_

"_Hey!" _Hiro quickly positioned himself between his manager, his producer and the door of Shuichi's dressing room. "Hey, look guys, everyone calm down! Let me talk to him!" He tapped on the door, tried the handle; finally leant his weight against it. "Shuichi? Are you in there, man?"

A moment later the door flew open and Hiro fell straight into Shuichi's arms. His friend hugged him tightly for a full moment. "It's okay, Hiro…" he heard Shuichi pant into his ear like a impassioned lover, "it's okay… it's going to be okay… I was… I was just… _working on my lyrics…"_

"Your…" Hiro stared at him in disbelief. Then he hugged Shuichi back with crushing force.

"Yes! Yes, yes, _yes!_ I've done it! I've _done it! _I've finished the damn _song!" _Hardly seeming to notice K and Sakano watching them, Shuichi grabbed hold of Hiro's arm and began to pull him along towards the stage. "Come on, Hiro – I owe our fans a better performance than I've given in ages!"

"Shindou-san…?" Fujisaki Suguru appeared at the stage door, looking worried. As soon as he saw Shuichi, his gaze shifted quickly to the more usual expression of dignified disapproval. "Shindou-san, where have you…"

"Never mind all that now!" Shuichi grabbed hold of him too and pulled both his band mates forward. The hand still gripping Hiro's arm was not quite steady, and there was a distinctly wild look in Shuichi's violet blue eyes – and, if Hiro wasn't mistaken, the tracks of drying tears on his smooth round cheeks. But those cheeks were glowing with a vitality that had been lacking for months, and maybe just before this opening performance, a little hysteria wasn't such a bad thing. "Come on guys! Deep breaths! Hiro, get your guitar and let's give 'em a show even Sakuma-san couldn't rival! _I'm totally fired up now!"_

* * *

**TBC: **Eiri muses over the ending of his latest novel – and worries about the email he sent to Shuichi. Is it too little too late?


	16. Chapter 16: Letter

**CHAPTER 16: LETTER **Eiri muses over the ending of his latest novel – and worries about the email he sent to Shuichi. Is it too little too late?

* * *

_I promise to disappear from your life._

He had said it and meant it. It had seemed the best – even the most honourable – solution to the problem. There was no way Shuichi was ever going to let go, so Eiri would have to do it.

He had done not what he wanted, but what was right.

Or so he had thought. Perhaps, in the end, all he had done was run away from a situation he could no longer cope with.

_Full circle, _Eiri thought wryly as he sat down at his desk and switched on his laptop. _Here I am, back in Tokyo, worrying over Shuichi, wondering what the hell I was doing with him in the first place and yet wishing…_

_Wishing he was here with me right now._

Maybe he shouldn't have bothered leaving Tokyo in the first place. He could have saved himself some high petrol and hotel bills, not to mention the expense and the familial repercussions of a divorce. Maybe somehow or other Shuichi and he would have found an equilibrium. The kid was nothing if not resilient.

But he wasn't unbreakable. The pending dissolution of Bad Luck proved that.

_But if I'd stayed? If I'd stuck by him instead of disappearing and assuming everything in his life would just click back into place once I was gone?_

Eiri banished the recurrent thoughts from his head for what he hoped was the last time, focusing on the computer display in front of him. Ordinarily he hardly ever bothered to check his email – complaining that his telephone and internet connection was down was one of his favourite ways of stalling Mizuki. But this last week he had caught himself checking it about twenty times a day.

No new messages.

Maybe Shuichi hadn't got the email. Maybe he didn't even use that email account anymore! Maybe he had erased the email without reading it. Or maybe he had taken Eiri's advice at the end of it at face value and decided he no longer needed him and wasn't even expected to acknowledge it. Whatever the reasons, the probability surely was that if Shuichi was going to reply, he would have done so by now.

At that thought, a cold fear settled in Eiri's gut. What if Shuichi never replied? What would he do then? Should he go and see him in person? And with what intention? To repeat what he had already tried to explain in the email? To try and win Shuichi back?

It occurred to Eiri that he had no idea how. Winning the sort of women he usually went after was so easy – they were usually only waiting for a sign, even if they barely knew it themselves. There was a time when that might have been true of Shuichi too. A look… a smile… a touch… an unexpected kindness…

But now? After everything he had been through?

"_He still loves you! Even now! That's the whole point!"_

Nakano Hiro's words nagged at him, giving him a guilty sort of hope. The words had not been intended for that purpose, yet he found himself replaying them over and over in his mind.

Some of that hope, he supposed, had leaked into the email as he wrote it. He had not set out to argue his case – to offer himself in any way. He had written it with the sincere intention of saving Bad Luck, and through Bad Luck saving Shuichi. Whatever else might be troubling Shuichi, at the very least he would now know the truth – the entire truth – about Eiri.

Maybe in trying to save him, Eiri would lose him. Shuichi – at least the Shuichi Eiri remembered – was fanciful and sensitive. The knowledge that Eiri had suffered the same as he had would only move him to compassion; but for all his undoubted love there was a chance the knowledge of Eiri's murderous response would frighten him off for good.

What then?

Eiri supposed he would settle back into some semblance of his old life. Only it wouldn't be his old life, because he wasn't the same person he had been before Shindou Shuichi came into it.

He certainly wasn't the same person he had been before he had gone to New York.

It was the news that Shuichi was leaving Bad Luck that had finally driven him there – a sudden, urgent need to understand everything. To become a whole person after so long split apart. He supposed the awakening memories would have driven him there eventually, but the shock news had certainly accelerated things.

As always, it was Shuichi who had first brought him to the edge, then pushed him over.

But each time Eiri had fallen, Shuichi had been there to catch him – even if it was only to let him fall deeper in the next instant. He had made Eiri do so many things he had sworn he would never do – things all those who knew him well would have refused to believe he would ever do. Sleeping with someone of his own sex. Letting someone invade his home. Staying faithful. Backing down and changing his mind. Apologising for his quick temper and his bad manners. Considering the welfare of another… even before his own.

Shuichi had turned Eiri's world upside down. He had torn down Eiri's shields and exposed his heart. But each time, Shuichi had somehow managed to make him feel as though it was all right, at least for a little while.

But this time? When Eiri had surely fallen as far as he could – when he could no longer shut out his past or deny that he wanted Shuichi in his future – would Shuichi be waiting to catch him one more time?

Damn, but Eiri needed him. Needed him, wanted him, yearned for him…

Loved him?

He didn't know that. Not yet.

Or maybe he just didn't want to admit that he already knew the answer, now that it was probably too late to do anything about it.

Suddenly he remembered what he had said to Mika that night on the veranda of their childhood home. _All I know is that though life with Shuichi could be pretty tough, life without him… _He hadn't been able to finish that sentence the first time, but now he knew how it should end. _Life without him is like a long, slow lonely wait for death._

Eiri could not help clicking on the mailbox icon one more time.

_One new mail._

Eiri's heart fluttered like a bird taking flight. _Damn, I'm like some schoolgirl waiting for a text from the dorky boy she's got a crush on, _he thought scornfully. Yet he could not deny that his heart sank like a stone in the next instant when he saw who the message was from.

Mizuki Kanna Eiko Publishing.

More corrections to the novel, probably. Or objections from the Chief Editor regarding the title. _Cursed,_ it seemed, was too dismal even for Yuki Eiri's readers. Well, the old goat did have a point. There was something masochistically self-indulgent in it, and if Eiri lost faith in the integrity of his writing then he might as well give up waiting for Shuichi and hang himself right now.

Come to think of it, there was something equally masochistic and self indulgent in his decision to go with the unhappy ending when perhaps the happier one would have been better. The sad ending would be predictable. The happy one, handled delicately, without swathes of wild emotion, might be quite… elegant.

After all, he had handled the whole book with a dignified reserve. His characters spoke more through what they did than what they said. It was a simple enough story – a young and ambitious warrior betraying the warlord he served in exchange for wealth and position, only for his master to order the killing of the warrior's wife and young family in revenge. Years later, as a wandering sword-for-hire, broken and reformed in a harder, colder mould, the warrior finds himself working for a small-time racketeer in a forgotten town and made the acquaintance of a girl forced into prostitution by her impoverished parents.

Somehow this unlikely couple connect, and in spite of the fact both have lost any faith in love, they begin to have faith in one another.

The ending revolved around whether the warrior would seize a sudden serendipitous chance to avenge himself on the son of the Warlord who had killed his family, or whether he would chose to pass up vengeance in exchange for saving the girl from a life of suffering and loneliness. To add to the general agony of it all, the Warlord's son, his ancestry unknown until near the end, had been saved and reluctantly befriended by the warrior after he had rescued him from the local bandits.

The sad ending, which Eiri had gone with, of course involved the warrior discovering the truth and slaying his young friend and being slain in return; leaving the girl to her miserable future. A positive banquet of fatalistic misery.

The happy ending was not entirely happy – that was too much to ask. The warrior and the warlord's son, who had evolved a sort of _kohai – sempai _/father –son bond, had to accept that the bad blood between them would always keep them apart. But as a defiant gesture of love, the young man bought the girl's freedom from her family, and she and the old warrior agreed to leave the town together.

For a few moments, Eiri found relief in reading through one of his favourite scenes – the one in which the warlord's son, not knowing the warrior's feelings and under pressure from his friends to prove his manhood, tried to buy the services of the young prostitute. The warrior, seeing the shame in her eyes and unable to stand the thought of her in the arms of another man, was finally forced to admit his love for her. The tension building up to the moment; the misunderstanding and the repressed emotion… oh yes, he was very pleased with that scene.

Then for a further few minutes he lost himself in speculation about the ending. _Was_ the sad ending too predictable? But then again, his last book, _Cool, _had had a happy ending – maybe with a happy ending this one would be too much like it, though admittedly the two stories were hardly alike…

Then, quite unconsciously, he clicked on the mail icon yet again.

Nothing.

Of course not. He was being a complete idiot. It was still early. Bad Luck were somewhere North right now, probably sleeping off last night's concert.

So far he had avoided any contact with Tohma or with NG or anything else to do with the band. He did not want to know. If the letter had not helped; if Shuichi was still hell bent on throwing away his dreams, Eiri did not want to know.

He started violently as a metallic clatter was followed by the sound of something dropping softly onto the doormat. Post, just post. Junk mail, most probably, he reasoned, or some post to be forwarded on to the previous tenants of this new flat. Well he wouldn't be staying here long, he decided as he went to retrieve the letters. He didn't much like this place. It was cold, even for him, and the walls were still bare of his favourite paintings. He had chosen it without care, only to prove to Shuichi that he had taken up residence once more. Assuming Shuichi ever…

He froze as he saw the envelope staring up at him from the mat. He would recognise that neat, careful script anywhere. He carried the envelope back to his desk and sat down. He reached for his cigarette packet, thinking perhaps he would have a smoke to calm his ridiculous nerves. But then he found himself thinking of the way Shuichi would frown at him when he saw him smoking too much and he changed his mind. Swallowing hard, he looked at the envelope for another long moment before opening it.

The envelope – hotel stationery by the look of it – did not contain a letter. What it contained was a VIP seat ticket to Bad Luck's next Tokyo gig, and a sheet of paper on which were written the lyrics of a song.

_Amidst a noisy crowd of people, the murmured words melt away, scattered at my feet…_ _I wander aimlessly…_

His heart thumping, Eiri read it through with the greatest attention before he set it aside, reaching for the phone almost by instinct.

"_Hello?"_

"Seguchi."

"_- Eiri…? I had no idea you were back in Tokyo…"_

"Like hell." Eiri allowed the faintest note of affection to slip into his tone. Now was not the time for a stupid sparring match with his brother in law. And he had realised of late that he was tired of arguing; of being at odds with those dearest to him. "Listen, I just wanted to know… how is Bad Luck's tour going?"

There was something strange in Tohma's voice as he replied. Was it amusement? Was it pride? _"As a matter of fact, the tour is doing very well indeed. Shindou-san has surpassed even NG's expectations. One would almost think," _he added archly, _"that he has recently undergone some sort of… renaissance…"_

The barest curiosity had only just managed to penetrate Seguchi's silky tones before Eiri broke off the connection. Slowly he placed the phone back in the cradle. Then he picked up the paper and read the lyrics once again. And then he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

**TBC: **Finally Eiri and Shuichi are reunited. And they have a lot to talk about…


	17. Chapter 17: Reunion

**CHAPTER 17: **** REUNION **Finally Eiri and Shuichi are reunited. And they have a lot to talk about…

* * *

"Are you sure I look all right?"

"You look fine."

"Maybe I should wear the other top…"

"Shu, I said you look _fine."_

"I'm going to change! Have I still got time to change - ?"

"_Shuichi - ! Shit, you're like a girl on a first date!"_

Shuichi took a deep breath and sat down. "Sorry, Hiro. I guess I'm just nervous."

The guitarist leaned over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I kind of figured as much… just try to relax. You don't want to be all hyped up when you meet him; you know how that always pissed him off…"

"Yeah." Shuichi frowned. "It'd be a shame to have some stupid argument over nothing just because I can't stay calm… I don't want to ruin things all over again…"

"Hey…" Hiro surprised him then by gently tilting his face up and looking into his eyes. "Listen to me, Shu. You look great – and you _are_ great. You've managed to get yourself out of a whole pile of crap that wasn't your fault and you've just shown half of Japan that Bad Luck is the new Nittle Grasper! If Yuki Eiri can't accept you just the way you are then tell him to go screw himself."

"Hiro…!" Shuichi stared up at his friend in astonishment. Then he sprang to his feet. "Yeah! Yeah, you're right! Yuki can take me as he finds me!"

"That's the spirit," Hiro grinned. "D'you want me to wait until he comes?"

Shuichi shook his head. "No, I'll be okay. Seriously, Hiro," he added when he saw the faint flicker of doubt in Hiro's grey eyes, "I don't know what's going to happen next, but one thing I do know – I'm not going to let it bring down Bad Luck a second time. I… you know I can't tell you everything that letter from Yuki said… but I know why he wrote it… and I won't let him down."

"_Still_ so devoted," Hiro said with a sigh, moving towards the door. At the last moment he hesitated. "Look… I really am sorry I didn't tell you about him turning up at my place like that… I didn't know what to think… without knowing what he was planning…"

Shuichi smiled. "Hey, I told you to forget about that! It's all over now, right? Whatever you said to him, it was obviously the right thing… I'm just glad you didn't punch him out or tell him to stay away from me!"

"I thought about it," Hiro admitted sheepishly. "But I figured you're grown up enough now to fight your own battles…"

Shuichi grinned at him. "Right!"

"Well… good luck… and remember the golden rules…"

"Yeah, yeah… keep calm, act mature and don't take any shit!" Shuichi laughed as he watched his friend leave.

Once he was alone, however, his smile faded and he sat quietly, resting his chin on his hand. This meeting was not a mistake – of that much he was sure. He _had _to see Yuki again. He _needed _to see him.

He had thought of a hundred ways to reply to his email, and in the end had decided to send the lyrics and the tickets and nothing else. If Yuki understood him as well as Shuichi thought, he would know what was meant. Besides, it seemed better to show Yuki what his letter had done, rather than just trying to explain it to him in words.

Words were Yuki's speciality, and Yuki's words had set Shuichi free. From that very first concert he had known he was free – he had felt the energy pulsing through him just as it had that first night supporting Ask but with so much more force. The confidence he felt in his own abilities was unlike anything he had felt before – he had never felt so in control of his own voice. It was as if everything he had struggled to learn in these last few difficult months finally made sense.

_It was like sitting an exam and realising I knew all the answers, _Shuichi realised as he looked at himself in the dressing room mirror one more time. _I've never had that feeling before. And yet there's more… I know there's more to come. I haven't reached the peak – not yet. Maybe I won't for quite a while._

_I wonder if that's how Sakuma-san felt when he decided to go break up Nittle Grasper and go to America. Had he gone as far as he could go with Nittle Grasper for the time being? And if so, what tempted him back? K and Sakano-san hinted it was Bad Luck…_

_A new voice. A new vision. A new direction. A new song, now the old one is no longer in tune. Could I really have given him that? _

_I don't know. All I know is that's what Yuki's given me… and I won't lose it. Not this time._

They still had yet to speak to each other. Yuki hadn't even officially accepted Shuichi's invitation, or even acknowledged receipt of the ticket. Yet Shuichi had known he would come – and if he didn't… then he would know that it was over, and found himself ready to deal with that too.

Even so, he could not help sending one of the clubhouse assistants down to the VIP seats to make sure Yuki had arrived and had gotten Shuichi's message to come to his dressing-room an hour after the performance was finished. Meeting right after, when Shuichi would still be keyed up after the performance, would have been a mistake. Hopefully Yuki would appreciate that.

"I still love him," Shuichi said aloud to his reflection in the mirror, and for once the admission did not fill him with despair. Instead it gave him a curious sense of peace. For the first time he allowed himself to look forward to this meeting with nothing but pleasure. He was going to see Yuki again. _He was going to see his Yuki again! _

_Yuki…_

That name. It had meant so much to him for so long. Most of the time he had not thought about calling Uesugi Eiri anything else. Of course there had _been _times… especially when he had realised "Yuki" was only a pseudonym… and when he had heard Ayaka using the name without a second thought… but it had always seemed too much of a presumption, especially when Shuichi almost never heard his _own_ name on his lover's lips and had usually to be content with "kid" and "moron" and "damned brat"…

But now… knowing where that name had come from… and who it had belonged to…

He had started to try and call him _Eiri _in his thoughts as much as he could, though he was still too self-conscious about it to refer to him by that name in front of anyone else. After tonight…

"I've missed you so much… Eiri..." Shuichi declared, looking down at the email, now crumpled and stained, which he had carried stuffed into his belt during each performance on the tour. "I love you… and I think… maybe… just maybe… you love -"

"…Shuichi…?"

The vocalist broke off sharply as he heard a gentle tap on the door and a voice calling his name. He took one last look at his reflection – and saw the faintest smile tugging at its lips. "Coming, Yuki…" he called.

* * *

"_Coming, Yuki…" _

The voice was music to Yuki Eiri's ears. A second later, the door was pulled open and Shindou Shuichi stood before him; pink hair, sparkling purple-blue eyes, blushing cheeks, radiant smile and all. The complete package.

He was dressed in a dark green long-sleeved t-shirt and camouflage combat trousers; the style was casual and boyish compared to what he had just been wearing on stage, but Eiri wasn't fooled. Shuichi had washed and dressed with the greatest care. The green suited him far more than the orange he seemed to be addicted to. He was even wearing aftershave – something light and expensive by the smell of it, mingling pleasantly with the more familiar fragrance of fruity shower gel and hair products.

For a moment the two of them simply stared at one another. It was Shuichi who recovered first. "Hi, Yuki…" he said softly. Then he stepped politely back from the door. "Come on in…"

Eiri hesitated. What had he been expecting? A kiss? An embrace? After everything that he had done to make this boy's life miserable? Yet the sight of Shuichi after so long was such an astonishing pleasure that he could not help wanting to touch him – even in the guise of some casual greeting.

This Shuichi was so different from the one he had just seen on stage. When Bad Luck had appeared, to the hysteria of their fans, they had opened not with the famous _Rage Beat, _but with a song Eiri hadn't recognised until Shuichi had begun to sing. _Glaring Dream,_ the song Shuichi had sent Eiri through the post. The song that had started all the trouble.

It was a beautiful song; the music and the delivery more than adequately compensated for any faults Eiri might still be able to find with the lyrics. Shuichi sang it in a loose, almost careless style. His movements were languid; his dancing positively serpentine in its undulations as if he was floating on a gentle breeze. Dressed in purple and black, he seemed almost to be made of twilight and to carry that same sense of peace mixed with sadness that the fading of daylight always seemed to evoke.

Eiri had found a lump gathering in his throat, but was unable to look away when Shuichi seemed to turn and stare right up at him.

Then all at once the spell was broken and Fujisaki Suguru broke into the opening bars of the _Rage Beat._ Awakening, the crowd exploded and Eiri had caught his breath at last.

Several seats away, he saw Shuichi's mother dabbing at her eyes while his father grinned proudly down at his son. He would have guessed who they were even if Shuichi had not once subjected him to a seemingly endless show of happy family photos which had left Eiri feeling irritated and… though it had taken him a long time to acknowledge it… just a little envious. The joy - and the relief - on their faces said it all.

The first meeting with the Shindou family, when they had taken their seats and noticed him, had been awkward to say the least. Shuichi's parents had greeted him with polite bows but also with penetrating looks that told him there was no doubt they knew who he was, well beyond his status as Yuki Eiri the famous romance author. They did not seem surprised to see him – evidently they had been forewarned of his presence.

How much had Shuichi told his parents of their relationship, before or after it had fallen apart? Eiri realised with discomfort that before this night he had never thought to ask.

Shuichi's mother had looked as though she was gearing up to give Eiri a piece of her mind, but her husband gently restrained her, and after a moment she had given her son's former lover a small, conciliatory smile. Shindou Maiko, however, regarded Eiri with a look of the deepest disappointment that he did not think he would easily forget. There was one fan he had lost, he noted with a weary sort of resignation, silently grumbling to himself that it was just like Shuichi to forget not to give Eiri tickets on the same night as his family.

But it then occurred to him that perhaps Shuichi had not forgotten at all.

_Here is my world – fit into it if you can?_

"Yuki…?"

"– Huh - ?" Eiri blinked.

"You're… kind of… staring at me…" Shuichi was regarding him with mild amusement. "Don't you want to come in...? Would you like some tea or coffee? Or a beer? They said the bar would still be open for a while if I needed anything…?" His gaze settled on the bouquet of flowers Eiri was clutching in a near-spasmodic grip. "Are… those for me?" Shuichi's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Or have you got a date waiting for you downstairs…?"

"Oh. Yeah." Eiri covered his befuddlement with a show of gallantry, holding out the flowers with a small bow before planting a chaste kiss on Shuichi's cheek. "A gentleman's supposed to bring flowers to a diva in her dressing room, right?"

"I don't…" Shuichi trailed off as he looked down at the bunch of pink orchids, then up at Eiri with astonishment. "How did you know…?"

"I'm psychic," Eiri told him with a smirk, taking the seat Shuichi offered.

"But... I…."

"You told the receptionist at the hospital that you were, dumbass!"

The insult was out before he could stop it; he was tenser than he realised. He was not used to this steady, courteous but ever so slightly remote Shuichi – he hardly even knew what to say to him.

"Oh!" Shuichi's expression cleared. "Oh yeah! Yeah, I guess that was a pretty dumbass thing to do, wasn't it!" All at once, the singer broke into that familiar wild, infectious laughter which had always vexed and enchanted Eiri in equal measure.

Now it filled him with sudden warmth which helped a little to relax the tension in his body – and in the room. God, how he had missed that laughter… that generous, unaffected nature. He could not help giving Shuichi a genuine smile, and was almost overcome when Shuichi smiled back at him with what looked very much like love.

He glanced away quickly, however, struggling to maintain his composure. He did not know what he had been expecting from this meeting, but Shuichi's apparent serenity compared to his own barely controlled nerves was a shift in the balance of their relationship that he was not sure how to adjust to.

He looked down at the flowers resting in Shuichi's lap. "Why didn't you come and see me? At the hospital," he added when Shuichi looked blank. "I mean, you came all that way… why didn't you come in and see me?"

Shuichi gaze followed Eiri's to the bunch of orchids, his smile growing rueful. "I… couldn't. Not with Ayaka-chan there. I… just couldn't…"

"Then why did you come at all?"

Shuichi looked up slowly. "Don't you know…?"

Eiri met that candid gaze with difficulty, replying with an awkward shrug.

"If I had," Shuichi continued softly, "would you have been pleased to see me…?"

"I…" Eiri hesitated. He couldn't tell Shuichi about sensing his presence – the kid would think he'd finally gone insane. But to answer the question directly… to admit how much he had missed Shuichi; what comfort he had drawn from knowing his former lover still cared enough to come all that way… it was so much easier to express such sentiments in a letter than it probably ever would be to speak them out loud.

"I certainly wasn't pleased to see you gave my flowers to some cute little nurse instead!" he answered at last, falling back on his usual irony. Shuichi gave a small smile, but his disappointment was clear. "But… to answer your question…" Eiri took a breath. "I would've been _very_ pleased to see you."

To his satisfaction, Shuichi turned pink with pleasure. "Listen, Yuki, I–" the vocalist suddenly broke off, frowning. "You know, I don't feel very comfortable calling you that anymore… after what you told me it feels kind of… weird…"

"Then call me Eiri," the novelist replied at once, glad of the chance to make the offer. "I should have told you to call me that a long time ago."

"Eiri…" Shuichi smiled once more, this time rather shyly. "I was… sort of hoping you'd say that… It'll take some getting used to… but I'd like to, very much…"

_You've said it a few times before, _Eiri noted silently, _usually in bed… though maybe you were too far gone in those moments to remember…_

The thought sent a stab of desire through him, sharp as a knife. He could not help watching with hungry eyes as Shuichi rose and placed the flowers carefully on his dressing-table, taking in every move the young man made.

"Uh – well - anyway…" Shuichi finally resumed, turning back to Eiri with a smile, "what I was going to say was… I haven't thanked you yet for the letter… I know I didn't write back properly but I thought… I thought tonight would say it better than I could…"

"That you're not giving up on Bad Luck?" Eiri suggested very quietly, his eyes fixed upon the hands folded in his lap.

"That I'm not giving up on _anything," _Shuichi answered in an equally gentle tone. He seemed to consider for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket and showing it to Eiri. It was a printout of Eiri's email, crumpled and discoloured and obviously well pawed. As Eiri stared at it in confusion, Shuichi sat down beside him once more, slowly – tentatively –reaching out a hand and placing it upon Eiri's. "I've found my way back onto the path… but I don't want to leave you behind. I want you to come with me… all the way."

Eiri tried to answer, but found his throat constricted. Shuichi's hand on his, as warm and gentle and steady as his manner since Eiri had arrived, was making his head spin and his heart beat too quickly. A hard pressure was building behind his eyes. It was too simple. Too effortless. He did not deserve to be pardoned so easily – not a second time.

"– _Why - ?" _he choked out. _"Why, damn it?"_

Shuichi frowned at him. "Why _what,_ Yu – uh – Eiri - ?"

"Why are you being so goddamned _nice _to me? After all the shit I've put you through?"

"The email…"

"To hell with the email!"

"No, Eiri!" There was an edge in Shuichi's voice for the first time, but it sounded more like appeal than anger. "Not to hell with it! The email's what it's all about! If I hadn't read it I would have just gone on the way I was… just like you've done… for the last seven years…"

"Like _I've _done…?"

"With Kitazawa. With– Yuki…" Shuichi drew in a deep breath. "You never knew why he… did what he did. You said so in the letter. I was like that this last year… guessing why you left me, but never knowing for sure. Just feeling angry, and guilty, and wondering… and worrying all the time if it was something I did… or if I'd just completely misjudged you… and if I was going to make the same mistakes again…" He tilted his head to the side, regarding Eiri oddly. "But surely you knew that, Yu – Eiri? I mean, that's why you wrote the email?"

Eiri pulled his hand from Shuichi's grip. It was true – of course it was true. It was little more than he had said himself in the email. Yet here and now he did not want to admit it. To be hailed as the hero of the hour when he did not deserve it… just like that day he had taken the film back from Aizawa – seeing the respect in Nakano's eyes and the love in Shuichi's…

He had no right to either. Not when it was all his own fault, then and now. "I don't know… it doesn't matter… Damn it, of all you know all that stuff I said could be a load of bullshit – I'm a _writer, _for god's sake!"

"Oh come on…!" Shuichi gave a soft, indulgent chuckle.

"And even if it's true – doesn't that damn email tell you what sort of person I am? _There's nothing good about me, don't you understand?" _The words escaped from him without thought; without control. "All I do is ruin people's lives – I ruined Yuki's; I damn near ruined yours… I should've left you alone… never even spoken to you in the park… I had no right… no right to… it was all my fault… everything that happened to you… it was because of me and I… I… how can you… _how can you just sit there and tell me it's okay?!"_

All at once Shuichi's eyes flashed indignantly. "You _know _why!" he cried with something close to the stubborn petulance Eiri remembered. "Because I love you… _Eiri!"_

"…It's… that simple for you…?" Eiri had to fight to get the words out. He felt strange – as if something was rising up inside him. Was he going to be sick? Was it his ulcer again? Or some sort of panic attack? The psychiatrist insisted he suffered from them, in spite of his indignant denials. "After – after everything that's happened… everything I've put you through…"

Shuichi was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and a little rough. "I tried not caring. I tried it that last time we were… together. Then I tried hating you. Then I tried forgetting you. I even tried forgetting everything else _but _you! I suppose," he added thoughtfully, "you can say I tried all the same things as you tried since… since New York."

Eiri shook his head violently. "How… how in the hell could you… could you…?"

"I don't know… but I'm right, aren't I?"

Eiri could not bring himself to answer.

"Anyway, all that did was make me miserable, and take away my music. So I guess the smartest thing is just to be Shuichi… just as I always was… and just accept that I love you, and want to be close to you… and don't want to feel any other way or be with anyone else…"

Eiri gave a soft moan. Without warning a sob broke from him, deep and painful, and before he knew it he was weeping uncontrollably. He hid his face in his hands, frantically rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes to wipe the tears away, but they just kept on leaking out.

To cry after so long was an incredibly strange feeling. It hurt, especially in the chest and the abdomen, and left him gasping for breath. He swallowed hard and tried to stem the flow. It was ridiculous – embarrassing – totally and completely _not _the Yuki Eiri he had planned to show Shindou Shuichi, who would certainly not know what to make of it and would probably get scared off.

"_Eiri…!"_ Shuichi's voice was like a soothing caress to Eiri's ears. A moment later strong arms were gathering him in and his head was being firmly pressed against the warmth of Shuichi's shoulder. After that Eiri gave up fighting and sobbed helplessly in the embrace of his former lover while Shuichi quietly stroked his back. The sense of release was intense and left him feeling light headed, as if he had been holding his breath for an eternity.

Mercifully, the flow subsided at last. It left him aching and exhausted and short of breath and for a small while he was content to rest in the shelter of Shuichi's embrace – was quite incapable of doing much else. But as he gradually recovered himself, Eiri suddenly became intensely conscious of how close Shuichi was. So close, in fact, that he could feel his warm breath ruffling his hair. As he raised his head, his cheek brushed against Shuichi's and he could not stop himself searching for Shuichi's mouth with his own. But just as he was getting close to what he sought, a sharp pain shot through his head like a bolt of lightning and he winced.

"Eiri?" Shuichi was blinking at him in concern. "Are you okay?"

Eiri took a deep breath and managed to nod. "Yeah… it's just that I haven't cried in seven years and my head is _killing _me…"

"Seven years!" Shuichi gave a small, sad chuckle as he reached out to brush the tears from Eiri's cheeks. "Eiri, you're still just _too_ cool… I only managed _one…"_

"_You _haven't cried in a year?" Eiri eyed him incredulously. "That has to be some sort of world record…"

"Yeah, well if so I blew it when I read your email… I've been blubbing over it ever since…"

"…Idiot…"

"That's me…!" Shuichi agreed cheerfully. "But that's why you love me, right?"

"…Whatever," Eiri mumbled. But he allowed himself to settle into Shuichi's embrace once more. When Shuichi did not object – even when Eiri's arms slid possessively around his waist – Eiri felt a sudden rush of undeniable relief. The two of them stayed as they were for what seemed an endless moment, Shuichi's fingers trailing through Eiri's hair while Eiri kept quite still, counting the beats of the other man's heart.

"Eiri…" When Shuichi finally broke the silence, his tone was hesitant.

"Mmmh…?"

"Can I… ask you something?"

Eiri sniffed and nodded.

"_Do_ you love me…?"

The question made Eiri instantly tense. Shuichi had every right to ask it and Eiri had more or less assumed that he would. At this crucial moment, he did not want to ruin everything. He could always resort to his old tactics and say nothing; but he doubted Shuichi would accept it. He could say what he guessed Shuichi would want to hear… but of all the things he had done to Shuichi, he had never actually lied to him. So the only other choice was simply to tell the truth.

"I… I don't know…" he mumbled against Shuichi's t-shirt, not daring to look up, "I'm not sure I even know what it's supposed to feel like…"

To his surprise – and relief – Shuichi actually laughed. "And you a romance novelist," he sighed, "whatever would your readers think…?"

"My readers… and my publishers… call me a romance novelist," Eiri countered, "but if you'd read some of my novels…"

"_I have!" _Shuichi declared proudly.

That took Eiri by surprise. "Oh…? Well… well - then you'll know that I've spent six years trying to tell myself and the world at large that romantic love is just a cruel delusion – an artificial concept used to sell flowers and chocolates and cards with mushy poems in them! I can tell you that I love you, but what good is that to either of us if I don't know if it's what I really feel?"

Eiri felt the other man's body tighten just as his own had a moment before. Shuichi was putting a brave face on it – obviously quite determined not to be a brat – but once again Eiri could feel his disappointment. Once again, he did not want to leave it like that, but he did not know what else to say.

All at once, however, Shuichi relaxed again. "Well… I don't know, but… how about if you just tell me what you _do _feel?" he suggested tentatively.

Eiri frowned, hating to talk of his feelings directly, but he knew he had to make the effort. Shuichi deserved at least this much from him just for agreeing to see him again like this… and for being so gracious about it throughout.

"I… know I've missed you…" he began haltingly, "I… know I want you… need you… I know it makes me... happy... when I see you... even when I don't want to be... it was always like that, from the very beginning..." he admitted, as much to himself as to Shuichi. "I just didn't want to feel it... to start feeling excitement, and wonder, and joy… and hope… all over again. I didn't want to remember what that was like. I think that's why I treated you so harshly the first few times we met..."

Hesitantly he drew back, meeting Shuichi's gaze directly. "Most of all, after a year apart from you I know that without you, life is… life is just a matter of existing from day to day… and there's nothing and no-one to fill the void of empty silence that's left when you're not there…

"If that sounds like love to you…" he finished with a heavy sigh, rubbing the heel of his palm into his aching eyes, "then… I suppose the answer is _yes…_"

Eiri rested his head on Shuichi's shoulder once more, feeling more drained by this speech than he had from his earlier fit of tears. For a long time there was no sound from his companion; no movement either – not even a comforting pat or, conversely, an attempt to push him away. When he finally felt Shuichi stir, he tensed expectantly.

"Yeah…" he heard Shuichi say, "that _sounds_ pretty much like love to me…"

Eiri let out the breath he had not realised he was holding. "Well it sounds like a goddamned cliché to _me!"_

"Yeah… maybe... but then again, maybe it's only a cliché because it's true? I mean, if everyone feels the same way when they fall in love, aren't they all going to describe it the same way?"

Eiri drew back slightly, eyeing the vocalist dubiously. "Did you have a brain transplant while we've been apart? Or has doing it with girls somehow raised your IQ?"

Shuichi's only response was to lean in and press a silent kiss to Eiri's brow. "Still the same old Yuki…"

Eiri rolled his eyes. "I… think I could really use that beer now…"

Shuichi grinned, reaching over to the dressing table to retrieve a tissue. "Here, wipe your nose and I'll go and get it myself…"

As Shuichi darted away, Eiri rose slowly, rubbing his temples, and found his way into the adjoining shower room where he splashed cold water on his face. His head was still reeling from the sudden shock and nothing yet seemed real to him. Wandering slowly back again, his eyes focused on the dressing table and the numerous cards and small gifts festooned around it.

"_You're the best, Shindou-sama!" "Bad Luck Rocks!" "We love you Shu-chan!" _(surrounded by hearts.)_ "Thank you so much for the tickets, Shindou-san – with love from Satsu and Naduki…" _(decorated with kisses.)_ "Welcome back to Tokyo, Shuichi-san – looking forward to tonight! – Misako and Kiku…"_ Eiri hoped it was the concert they were referring was even one written in English: _"Any old time you want me, I'll be there, for just the askin', darlin'...'" _The girl had included her name, her mobile phone number, her email… and even the address and room number of her hotel. He had to resist the temptation to stuff that one down the toilet.

Then Eiri's eyes alighted on that stupid Kumagoro thing Sakuma had once given Shuichi and a sudden shiver coursed down his spine. "Manipulative bastard," he muttered ungratefully, remembering a certain encounter in the park at dusk when a pair of blue eyes had seemed to look at him and through him. That he might have been played like a chessman was vexing enough – that he was only a pawn to Shuichi's king was positively mortifying.

He was just debating whether to ring the pink rabbit's neck when he heard the singer return. "You starting a breeding programme or something?" he asked with a wry nod towards another stuffed rabbit wearing a pink balaclava perched next to Sakuma's gift.

He heard Shuichi sigh softly as he came to his side, picking up the white My Melody rabbit and looking down at it for a moment. "Nah… it's just a sort of souvenir from another life which didn't suit me…" He put the toy back on the shelf and handed Eiri a beer, cracking open a can of coke and sipping it slowly. "They got me a special board for all the cards… it folds up, see…?" Shuichi demonstrated. "I wanted to keep them with me wherever I went…"

Eiri nodded. He took several large swallows of cold beer, trying to get his mind around the fact that only moments before he had been crying like a child on Shuichi's shoulder. Watching his companion busy himself with tidying up the dressing table and sorting out the cards, he could see that he was not the only one feeling awkward – it had, after all, been a bizarre experience for them both.

Once again Eiri found his eyes straying over Shuichi's body; found himself watching every gesture, every change of expression. He was standing so close… Eiri would hardly have to step forward to take him in his arms…

Once again he was utterly conscious of Shuichi standing so close to him. The simple, animal need to touch him – to take him and have him – mingled with the equally powerful but more emotional need to know that he had understood Shuichi's words; to be sure Shuichi really would be his again. He had not known… had not truly _known…_ until this very moment, just how very dear to him this young man was.

Love? Was it really that simple after all?

"Shuichi…" he began, then did not know how to continue. Less than one year ago, a glance… a caress… hell, even a friendly word would have been enough…

"It's getting late," Shuichi cut in abruptly, picking up his orchids and snatching a jacket from the back of his chair, "we should get out of here before they lock us in…!"

"Right." Eiri felt his heart sink as he watched Shuichi pack away a few stray items into his backpack and sling it over his shoulder. He felt a strong sense of disappointment as they left the dressing room and made their way down the back stairs, almost like a child whose birthday festivities were finally over. This, apparently, was all he was going to get.

He also felt an odd sense of failure – he could not help but suspect that Shuichi had been waiting for something from him and he had not managed to work out what it was, let alone provide it.

Maybe the damned brat was playing hard to get. Maybe he was afraid that once Eiri knew he had him back, he would revert to his more characteristic cold hearted bastard mode and break Shuichi's heart all over again.

_It won't happen,_ Eiri told himself forcefully. _I swear I'd kill myself before it did._ He had been given not only a second chance of happiness but a _third._ His second had come the day Shuichi had appeared in his life, and he had nearly thrown it away, totally unable to see it for what is was, or deal with it even he did. _If I ruin things this time, _he thought bitterly, _death would be far better than life alone._

This last painful year had proved it.

He was being ridiculously melodramatic, he knew; worrying about what had not yet happened. For someone who did not believe in much of a future, and did his best to forget the past, he certainly had a way of thinking too far ahead of the present. A writer's fault, he supposed, playing out all possible scenarios, however wildly unlikely.

Well, they could take it slowly if that was the way Shuichi wanted it. It might actually be a good learning experience them both. They could… go out together. Go on a few… dates. Shuichi would probably _love_ that. Eiri could take him out for dinner, or for walks in the park… maybe even to the cinema or the theatre… or…

_Or what?_ he demanded of himself. _I don't know a damn thing about how it's supposed to be with two guys. But then again, I don't really know much about old fashioned "keep your hands to yourself" courtship with women either! I know how to seduce… to impress… to score… I don't have any idea how to court._

And even if he tried, how much time would he have? He struggled to remember what Nakano had said about Bad Luck's schedule. How long would they remain in Tokyo? And where were they going next? Eiri supposed he could wait until the tour was over… but not with things like this… not without… _something_ more. Shuichi had said he still loved him. So why did he suddenly feel so damned… insecure?

**TBC: ** They've been reunited, but where do they go from here?


	18. Chapter 18 - Italian

**CHAPTER 18: ITALIAN - ** Eiri and Shuichi are reunited at last, but where do they go from here?

* * *

There was frost in the night air as they finally stepped out onto the street; the sky over the city was remarkably clear and sprinkled with stars. No moon though… rather a pity. Eiri dug out his cigarettes and lit one, inhaling and then exhaling tobacco smoke with the deepest pleasure.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to do that," Shuichi grinned.

"Believe me, I held out as long as I could…" Eiri tapped ash from his cigarette and took out his car keys. "Can I drop you anywhere…?"

Lowering his eyes, Shuichi shook his head.

Eiri nodded. "Well, I'm parked just across the road, so I suppose this is – "

"Eiri…" In one quick, sharp movement, Shuichi's hand closed around Eiri's wrist and he turned to look up into his face with eyes full of longing. "Come home with me…"

Eiri's heart skipped a beat. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Shuichi said softly, "I'm sure. I've missed you… _so_ much…"

"I've… missed you too…" It _still _wasn't easy to say, but Eiri said it. "More than I can probably ever express…"

"Oh, _Yuki…"_ Apparently forgetting his resolution in the heat of the moment, Shuichi flung his arms around Eiri's neck.

Eiri held him tightly, burying his face in that soft, newly washed hair and fighting the tears that threatened to flow all over again. This, at last, was his cue – he could surely kiss Shuichi now without any fear of rejection. He could be absolutely _sure._ But just as he was inclining his head he noticed something this time which he had been too overcome to notice back in Shuichi's dressing-room. He ran his hands hard down Shuichi's back and sides, down to his hips.

"Yu – Eiri…!" Shuichi giggled nervously, "hey, I know it's been a while, but…"

Eiri frowned and held Shuichi at arm's length. "You've lost weight… your bones are sticking through!"

"Oh…! Well… only a little," Shuichi admitted, obviously startled by this sudden change, "anyway… so have you! Come on, we've both had a rough couple of months! And besides, I'm only nineteen, I haven't finished growing yet! Y'know, standing next to you like this, I think I might even have grown another inch or two…"

"Standing on tiptoes, maybe…" Eiri scoffed. "Come on. We're going to get something to eat…"

"Really? Cool! Where d'you want to go? There's Zenny's… they're pretty cheap and they open real late…"

Eiri grinned at him. "To hell with that! I'm not talking about greasy burgers and chips! I want something decent!"

Shuichi brightened as they made their way across the road to Eiri's Mercedes. "There's that Italian place Mika-san took me to that night you… well… anyway, I didn't try the food there that night but it looked really nice and… Eiri…?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh…" Shuichi gave him a coy smile. "Does this mean… we're actually going on a _date…?"_

* * *

It was late when they arrived at the restaurant and the management were getting ready to close the kitchen, but the promise of a big tip, the dropping of Seguchi Mika's name and a fair dollop of Yuki Eiri charm was enough to win them the concession of a quiet table at the back. Shuichi could not help a small thrill at the cool suavity of Eiri's demeanour – when heads turned and admiring female eyes followed Shuichi's companion across the room, instead of jealousy Shuichi felt the pride of a child brining his new bike to the playground and enjoying the envy of his friends.

_Man, I'm still such an idiot,_ he thought, and had to bite back a smile before Eiri noticed. _But then again, I've waited a long time for a moment like this… to be out with Yuki in public, to be sharing him with the world and yet feel like it's still only the two of us…_

When the food arrived Shuichi discovered that he was ravenous. He munched his way through a plate of garlic dough-balls and a bowl of black olives followed by a large dish of cheese ravioli in a rich meat sauce with great speed and equally great enjoyment. He even downed two glasses of wine – something white and sweet and sparkling which Eiri chose for him. The writer himself drank something red and – as far as Shuichi was concerned – far too sour to be drinkable.

Only the dessert slowed Shuichi down – he stared in wonder at the cassata Eiri ordered for him, admiring the pink, green and white stripes for a moment before sampling each one individually and insisting Eiri do the same.

"The green one's pistachio, right…?" Shuichi asked, taking another spoonful, "I think I like it the best…"

Eiri watched him with a small, indulgent smile, lighting a cigarette as the coffee arrived. He didn't say anything and for a little while neither did Shuichi. But the silence between them was companionable.

All through the meal, Shuichi had talked as if he had not seen this man in over twenty years. Initially it worried him that he was being so honest about all that had happened to him while they had been apart; but it suddenly seemed to him that he could play it no other way. It was as difficult for him to conceal things as it was for Eiri to reveal them. And after all, they were going to have to accept one another's limitations if they were going to make their relationship work a second time.

So he told Eiri about Buki; he told him about Hitomi and all the other girls and why he had stopped seeing them all. He told him about how he had felt since Eiri had left him; about how he had struggled to continue with Bad Luck and why he had finally decided to finish with it – and why, at last, he had changed his mind. Some of that, at least, Eiri obviously already knew. But there was so much he _didn't_ know – how very close Shuichi had come to becoming a very different person… and how, ultimately, he had struggled back to being himself.

There was a part of the Shuichi Eiri had met in the park who would probably never return… but Eiri would work that out, if he stuck around.

The only things he managed to keep quiet about were matters concerning Ayaka – and her involvement with Hiro. He knew Ayaka was still in Tokyo, and that she and Hiro were getting pretty friendly, but he didn't know what – if anything – her ex-husband would feel obliged to do about it. He couldn't see Eiri telling tales to the Usami family… but there was so much about the influence of Eiri's far more traditional upbringing that Shuichi knew he still could not appreciate.

Shuichi finished the last of his ice cream, took a sip of the strong black coffee placed before him and looked across the table at Eiri, taking in every detail of him. With a cigarette in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, so relaxed in his black suit and dark blue shirt, he looked almost _too_ cool to be sitting at Shuichi's table.

The moment he had walked through the dressing-room door, Shuichi had been almost overcome. It was as if he was seeing him for the first time all over again, just as he had in the park that night. It seemed ludicrous that this was the man who he hoped to have as his lover for the rest of his life – ludicrous even to believe that they had ever _been _lovers at all. Yuki Eiri was just too beautiful for that…

And yet they had been… and it seemed as though they might be again. With sudden clarity Shuichi realised how his deep and almost instant love, combined with Eiri's incredible ability to provoke the hell out of him, had swept him along through the months of their relationship without any real chance to absorb the reality of it.

Oh yes… there had been moments… listening to the Yuki Eiri fangirls gushing over his books… seeing the shock and doubt on the faces of others when they heard of the relationship… when he had paused to wonder how any of this had happened… but for the most part he had just let himself go.

Seeing Eiri again made it so very real. And yet… he had remained calm.

"Hey…" Eiri nudged Shuichi's foot with his own under the table. "What's with the spaced out look? Is the espresso coffee too strong for your brain?"

"Huh - ?" Shuichi blinked, and then laughed. "No… I'm just thinking… you're even more handsome than I remember!"

"You're looking pretty cute yourself, tonight," Eiri answered with a smirk. "I've never had a man get himself all dolled up for me before…"

"What - ?!" Shuichi felt his cheeks catch fire. _"All dolled up - ?! _No way! I just – these were just the clothes I – I – that is – _ahhh!"_ Shuichi gasped as Eiri's foot began to slide up his ankle. "Stop that! Shit, you're making me blush!"

"I'd like to make you do a lot more than that by the time this night is over…"

"I'll... hold you to that," Shuichi declared boldly.

"You can hold me to anything you like... as long as it's part of you..." Eiri whispered, his toe sliding up under the curve of Shuichi's knee where he obviously remembered Shuichi was ticklish.

"_Yuki - !"_ Shuichi squealed.

Eiri grinned and withdrew his foot. "That's a bit more like it. That new self-possessed Shuichi was beginning to freak me out…"

Shuichi gave him a knowing smile. "Yeah, I had a feeling it bothered you… not really the Shuichi you know, right?"

Somehow, seeing the confusion, the uncertainty, even – unbelievable though it seemed – the nervousness in Eiri had calmed Shuichi down before his own butterflies could make him say or do something stupid. More astonishingly, once that calm had descended it had remained with him.

Even when the _most _astounding moment of the evening had occurred – when his cool, reserved Yuki Eiri had begun to cry…

Now, at last, he was jittery, but in the most delicious way. This was what he had always dreamed of… a magical date with the one he loved. The anticipation… the flirtation… the discovery…

The certainty…

He had played this game with quite a few girls this past year, but even in the midst of it he had been unable to stop himself wondering what it would be like with Eiri.

"I was nervous at first," Shuichi admitted, "but… it was like… it was like it was supposed to happen. All the time we were apart, it… well… it was like none of it felt _real… _it's as if the last year or so was just a dream… like… no matter what you and I did… or where we went… or… who we saw… we'd still end up right here. I don't mean in this restaurant," he added quickly, "but… you know… _here._ Together. Do you know what I mean?"

Eiri frowned and crushed out his cigarette. "…Yeah." He sounded reluctant, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Still, it seems a pretty messy way to get to the same place we were before we… split up."

Shuichi considered for a moment. The one thing he had not told his companion was about how Tatsuha had come to fetch him with a view to halting the wedding. He had classified it amongst those things he thought were too awkward for the others involved, and besides, he didn't much care to hear details of Eiri's marriage – especially not if he wanted to look Ayaka in the eye ever again.

_I think I should have gone to Kyoto,_ he thought without knowing why. _I think… somehow… I was supposed to. And I think it might have saved us all a good deal of pain…_

Well, it was too late for that now…

"We're not in the same place, though," Shuichi finally answered, meeting the other man's beautiful golden eyes, "are we… _Eiri?_ I mean, I know it sounds silly, but I really think I've grown... from... well, from a boy into a man..."

He waited for Eiri to laugh at him. But Eiri didn't laugh. His gaze, in fact, was quite... sympathetic. Encouraged, Shuichi went on. "And you've grown too... from a – uh – well – you know... into... into a... a... uh..."

He couldn't quite bring himself to say it. But Eiri said it for him. "From a maladjusted misanthrope into a functional human being...?"

"Well..." Shuichi looked awkwardly down at his hands. Eiri's honesty was disconcerting. "When I've had time to look those words up in the dictionary I'll let you know... Come on," he said briskly, "let's settle up and get out of here…"

* * *

Eiri's first instinct was to insist they go back to his place instead. It would surely be bigger, tidier and cleaner than any domicile run by Shindou Shuichi, even if he still had no love for the new place and had a feeling Shuichi would notice is lack of welcoming domesticity – of any stamp of personality at all, even Eiri's rather esoteric and exclusive one.

He had almost never gone back to the homes of the women he dated, preferring to meet them on his own territory or the neutral ground of a hotel. If anyone was going to be told to leave – or indeed thrown out – it was not going to be Yuki Eiri. And the idea of stepping into someone else's home gave him an uncomfortable sense of stepping into their psyche. He had never wanted to know much about his lovers besides what might be useful for his latest novel.

He had done it once or twice after Shuichi had moved in; before the kid had so taken over his life and his brain that chasing women fell into the sidelines. He had known he didn't want Shuichi walking in when he was with a woman, though he had told himself he didn't want the little idiot flying into a jealous rage and giving the girl the impression Eiri was some sort of queer. Such experiences had been uncomfortable enough to warn him against tonight.

But he had kept quiet. There was, he realised, no point in telling himself things would be _this _way or _that _way, that Shuichi would have to take it and like it. There was no point in acting the way he had the last time they had been lovers. This time he had offered Shuichi – however obliquely – a real relationship, not an uncertain and indefinite affair. It was _he,_ not Shuichi, who had done the chasing this time; it was he who had asked for a second chance.

Dinner, at least, had been a pleasure. Shuichi's new maturity, while it took some getting used to, was enjoyable. And there were still enough signs of the old stupidity to remind Eiri of past times. It might be fun to spoil Shuichi a bit – to revisit a few of his favourite places with him; to share a few experiences outside the bedroom that Eiri had previously only enjoyed alone.

He could sense tension growing between them during the drive, but it was a _good _tension; it was anticipation of what was to come, not worry or doubt. He could hear it in Shuichi's voice as the vocalist suddenly started asking about his writing.

"I really _have_ read some of your novels," Shuichi told him with a slightly spurious lightness in his voice, "amazing, isn't it? Are you working on something at the moment? Stupid question," he carried on before Eiri could answer, "you're _always _working on something, aren't you…!" He giggled nervously.

"As a matter of fact I am," Eiri agreed, focusing on the road. "I've nearly finished my newest novel…"

"So… what's the plot?"

Eiri told him, though he wasn't sure Shuichi was really listening.

"Uh-huh…" Shuichi nodded, gazing out of the window. "And how does it end?"

Eiri smirked. "As a matter of fact there are two endings. A happy one and a sad one. Maybe… you could help me decide which one to go with…?"

Shuichi shrugged. "That's me – number 20. You can park over there…"

Eiri pulled up outside a large block of flats, not modern but obviously well maintained. Like Shuichi, it had their own distinctive, ever so slightly eccentric character - the architecture was an odd mixture of styles; the two sides of the building divided by the stairwell asymmetrical, giving the whole façade a rather lopsided look which went against Eiri's love of simple lines. "Quite a respectable area for a scruffy little rocker," he noted with a smirk. "Looks like you're not doing so bad after all…"

"Well at least no-one'll drop a brick out the window onto your precious Merc," Shuichi countered. "Anyway, the answer to your question is too easy."

"Oh…?"

"Yeah. You'll go with the depressing one. That's your style."

"Is that so…?" Eiri backed the car into a parking space and pulled on the handbrake. Slowly he turned to Shuichi and reached out a hand to cup his cheek. "Well as a matter of fact I was thinking about the happy ending. I'm beginning to think it's not as improbable as it seems…"

As he finished, he leaned forward and kissed him.

He did not think he had ever waited that long to take a kiss in his entire life. He supposed somewhere there must be some memory of longing that hard for some gesture of affection from Yuki, though certainly not as clearly as this. But he swept such thoughts aside. Kitazawa Yuki was in the past, and for just now Eiri wanted to leave him there. The only memories he wanted now were of Shuichi – and only the pleasantest, most tantalizing ones at that.

Shuichi accepted it willingly enough, though he was slow to allow Eiri to deepen it, meeting the first touch of Eiri's lips with his own chastely closed. It surprised and charmed Eiri to realise he was being teased; but the playfulness did not last for long. In barely a moment they were clasping each other tightly with all the passion they had once shared.

"Eiri…" Shuichi breathed softly into his ear when they finally drew apart.

"Hmm…?"

"Promise to let me take you out for breakfast in the morning…?"

Eiri grinned, nuzzling the warmth of Shuichi's neck. "As long as you're all mine tonight, tomorrow you can take me wherever you like..."

"_For real?"_ Shuichi blinked at him. "Yuki Eiri, you really _have _changed!"

As Eiri recognised the unintended double meaning and glared indignantly at him, Shuichi burst into that loud, stupid laughter that was once again music to the writer's ears. "Nah – I'm only kidding... but it was worth it just to see that look on your face!"

"You've been watching too many British sitcoms," Eiri sighed. "Come on, Shu-chan... keep smiling like that and I'll have my way with you right here... and what would your new utterly respectable neighbours say about you _then..?"_

**TBC: **Last chapter finally on its way! At last Eiri and Shuichi are together again… but there is still the future to consider…


	19. Chapter 19: Music

**CHAPTER 19: MUSIC** At last Eiri and Shuichi are together again… but there is still the future to consider…

**NOTE: **Thank you to all of you who have stuck through the delays – I really hope you've enjoyed this story. I write them because I like writing them, but I post them because (I hope…!) they entertain others! Have a truly brilliant, happy, healthy and peaceful New Year!

* * *

It was still barely light. The relative quietness of a city usually echoing deafeningly with the combined noise of its inhabitants was almost eerie. Eiri lit his cigarette and looked down at the street below, where what looked like a large marmalade cat was padding silently across the deserted road. At such moments, one could have the strangest fancies – could begin to imagine that he and that orange cat were the only two creatures alive.

But then Shuichi appeared beside him and the spell was broken. The young musician had wrapped himself in a simple black kimono of what appeared to be fine wool – it looked smart on him, but Eiri rather missed the vests and boxer shorts Shuichi had used to sleep in when he was living with him; they showed a great deal more.

Shuichi held out a steaming cup of black coffee, which Eiri gratefully accepted. He was still sleepy – after all, they had reached here in the early hours and spent a good while getting reacquainted though Shuichi had slept afterwards, Eiri had gone straight for the shower, driven not so much by habit as by a sudden diffidence; the sense of vulnerability in being in someone else's home persisted even after he and Shuichi had slept together. Shuichi looked up and smiled at him before leaning on the balcony rail gazing outwards.

"Nice view," Eiri commented.

Shuichi made a non-committal gesture. "I always liked the view from your old place," he murmured, taking a sip of coffee.

"We could probably move back there if you like it that much..." Eiri spoke without thinking; it was only when Shuichi gave him an odd look that he noticed the presumption his words implied.

Shuichi appeared to consider this for a moment; then he sighed and shook his head. "No... we can't go back."

Eiri looked away in embarrassment, infuriated to feel his cheeks growing hot. He hadn't asked what Shuichi intended to do next – during the tour or after. In point of fact, he had positively been avoiding the subject, not sure if he wanted to hear Shuichi's response. So much remained undecided, and the time suddenly seemed so short. He took a large gulp of hot coffee and a deep drag on his cigarette and tried to steady his nerves before he said something else completely stupid. "No, I guess not."

Shuichi's hand closed over Eiri's on the balcony rail. "But that doesn't mean we can't go forward... together..."

Eiri felt the pain in his chest ease away. Finding himself lost for words, he returned Shuichi's grip in silence.

"Anyway," Shuichi continued suddenly, "I like this place... and there's a spare room... it might… you know… make a good office..."

"What do you need an office for?" Eiri gave Shuichi a crooked smile. "Are you starting a business or something...?"

"_Eiri!"_ Shuichi kicked him. "You jerk – you know perfectly well what I mean!"

"Well... I suppose I could house-sit for you while you're on tour..."

"You... could come with us, you know..."

Eiri glanced at his companion, but Shuichi was now staring fixedly into his coffee cup. Frowning, the writer crushed out his cigarette and put his own cup down on the concrete floor. "No," he said, softly but firmly, "it's too public. That's not the sort of publicity you need right now. My divorce isn't even through yet, and you don't need to be labelled a gay home-wrecker; it'd be a juicy scandal even without the connection to Seguchi... or the little matter of your Nakano's tender friendship with my soon-to-be ex-wife..."

Shuichi gave a soft chuckle. "When you put it like that, it does sound like a bit of a soap-opera, doesn't it? All the same, K-san would say no publicity is bad publicity..."

"I'm not talking about Bad Luck. I'm talking about _you. Us," _he added awkwardly.

Shuichi gave the heavy sigh of a disappointed child. But when he spoke, his voice held resignation. "Yeah... I guess you're right... it's just... I've missed you so much... and it seems like... you know... just when I've got you back..."

Eiri hesitated. After a moment's thought he moved up to Shuichi and slipped his arms around him from behind, placing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck. He felt, rather than heard, Shuichi's gasp of surprise turning to pleasure as the younger man relaxed against him and rested his head back against his shoulder.

Shuichi had always loved such gestures – Eiri had always been reticent in making them. A kiss or an embrace most often signified a preamble to sex; otherwise he had had a tendency to behave as if Shuichi was more of a roommate than a lover. It wasn't as if they had _never_ shared such casual gestures of affection – only that Shuichi was usually the one to initiate them. It was about time, Eiri reflected, he learned to initiate a few more of his own.

With an urgent tenderness Eiri kissed Shuichi's cheek before beginning to rub his own against it, pressing as close as he could.

To his surprise, the gesture was greeted not with a sigh of passion but with a soft chuckle. Eiri frowned. "Something amusing you…?" he asked.

Shuichi shrugged. "I was just thinking… the last time you did that was outside your place, in front of Mika-san! D'you remember? Man, I thought I'd die…"

"From what? Embarrassment or ecstasy?"

"Both, I guess… I mean I knew it was a joke or something, but I… I kind of wished it wasn't." He gave a soft, reflective sigh. "You really were a bastard, Eiri – I can't believe I was actually jealous of your sister! And then we had another argument, remember? And then… you kissed me. I never did figure out why you did that – you were being so mean just before that I thought you totally _hated_ me…"

"So did I," Eiri admitted honestly. "Believe me, that kiss shocked me as much as you."

"But – _why - ?"_

"I don't know. I just looked at you and thought… _I want to kiss him._ So I did. If you'd been a woman I wouldn't even have thought that far… but you… you always made me do stupid things."

"I felt like my life began all over again after that kiss," Shuichi said quietly, "until then I… I don't think I knew why I did anything… I knew I wanted something… but until that kiss I didn't know what it was… But even then it was only my body waking up. I'd've let you do anything you liked to me just then but I wouldn't've known why. It wasn't until I asked you about your family and I thought I'd totally blown it that I knew I was in love with you. I knew because I'd never hurt like that before…"

"Hey…" Eiri trailed a hand down over Shuichi's shoulder, slipping it into his robe to stroke his bare chest. "Forget all of that. It's in the past."

"I know," Shuichi sighed, "it's just… you know… we've been apart for over a year, but after one night like this I think I'm going to miss you more than ever…"

For a moment Eiri did not answer. He understood only too well what Shuichi was saying. They had been closer; they had been more at ease; in short, they had enjoyed each other more absolutely and on so many more levels on this night then they ever had before. "You know," he whispered into Shuichi's ear, "there's no reason I can't go to a few of your concerts... or that we can't meet up... once or twice... now that my new book's nearly finished, I might just fancy doing a little touring of my own around... say... southern Japan..."

"Oh Eiri...! Do you really mean that…?" Shuichi slid around to look at him, his eyes bright with happiness as he threw his arms about Eiri's neck and leant up to kiss him.

It did not take long for the kiss to grow passionate. Eiri could feel the heat of Shuichi's body penetrating through the thin fabric covering it; his hands slipped down automatically to that firm bottom and squeezed. "It's too damn cold out here," he panted, "let's get back into bed..."

"Wh-what about breakfast...?" Shuichi gasped breathlessly, leaning into him as they stepped back through the balcony doors.

"Sod breakfast," Eiri grunted.

"Lunch, then...?"

"Supper, maybe... but only if you make it a takeaway... we've got plenty of catching up to do..."

The second time was less charged, and yet somehow more satisfying than the first. All traces of lingering awkwardness had been melted away by the fire of passion as they rediscovered one another's bodies once again. When, in addition, Eiri did not immediately dive into the shower – or out onto the balcony for another cigarette - it created a new intimacy which gave Shuichi courage to voice worries which had slowly begun to penetrate the euphoric cloud he had been enveloped in for most of the evening.

This evening – this night - had been like a dream. But the sun was already rising... and there was still the rest of their lives to live.

With gentle, reverent touches Shuichi traced the curve of Eiri's shoulder, trailing upward over the back of his neck. "Eiri," he murmured softly, combing his fingers through that distinctive golden-yellow hair.

Eiri lifted his head from where it had been resting upon Shuichi's breast. One thing had not changed – he still seemed to hate lying on his back. "Hmm…?"

"D'you think we'll be okay this time…?"

With a soft exhalation, Eiri shifted onto his side and looked deep into Shuichi's eyes. "I… don't know…" he said quietly, "But… I hope so…."

Shuichi could not help gazing back at him in wonder. He knew what he had expected Eiri to say - that there were no guarantees; that romantic love was a delusion; that there would great pressure on a same-sex couple even without the fact that they were both already in the public eye... That, to summarise, life in general was a thoroughgoing, unpredictable, backstabbing bitch. To receive, instead, this simple but astonishingly frank response came as something of a shock.

"I hope so too," Shuichi breathed, cuddling closer. "This feels so _good_… I don't think I could ever feel like this with anyone else…"

Eiri did not reply to that. He even averted his gaze. But then he startled Shuichi even further by raising his hand to his lips and kissing it.

"I suppose people will find out about us, sooner or later…" Shuichi continued ruefully, "I bet that'll be rough… I saw what they did to Aizawa…"

"Aizawa was a talent-free prick who got everything he deserved." Even now that Shuichi knew the truth of his past, the cold malice in Eiri's tone was a little frightening to hear.

"Well… yeah, but…"

"Hey." Eiri stroked his large hand down Shuichi's back. "You're thinking too much, as usual. Try living in the here and now a little more…"

"Like you do, you mean…?" Shuichi sighed. "I tried being more like you… like I said before, I wasn't very good at it."

"I'm not saying you want to be like _that,"_ Eiri responded with a small smile, "when it comes down to it _I _wasn't that hot at it either. I _thought _I was doing it well, but when it came down to it I think I was only denying the past and avoiding the future… that's not the same thing as just enjoying the present. Like now…" he added, leaning close to nuzzle Shuichi's neck, "worrying about things that might never happen when we should just be… enjoying ourselves…"

"Yeah, I guess... you're... _oh...!" _Shuichi moaned softly as Eiri's lips tickled his skin. "Oh... _yeah_... that's... that's really..." Suddenly he found it difficult to remember what he had been talking about a moment before. "Uh... Eiri...?"

Eiri pillowed his cheek upon Shuichi's shoulder. "Hmm….?"

"About… enjoying ourselves…"

"...Mmm…?"

"I don't suppose you fancy a bit more... enjoyment... right now…?"

There was no answer to that. Surprised, Shuichi shifted to look down at his companion. Eiri's eyes were closed; his expression was relaxed – almost angelic in its pale perfection. His breathing was slow and regular. Shuichi nudged him gingerly, just to make sure. But no… Eiri was definitely out for the count.

Shuichi grinned, curling his arms about the other man and drawing him close. Eiri stirred briefly then, murmuring Shuichi's name softly in his sleep, and burrowed in. That settled it. No shower; no cigarette; no laptop; no exit line. So there really was hope for Yuki Eiri and Shindou Shuichi after all!

Shuichi knew he himself wouldn't sleep for some time. In spite of the concert, the emotional turmoil of his reunion with Eiri and – of course – the sex, he felt quite wide awake. More so in fact than he had felt in a very long time.

It didn't matter. Sleep was not important – if anything, it would be a nuisance at this moment when Shuichi could have happily lain there, sleepless, for the rest of his life. He had far more important things to concentrate upon.

With a blissful sigh, Shuichi closed his eyes… and heard music.

**THE END!**


End file.
